Albus Potter and the Cunning Plan
by Lunadeath
Summary: Albus was getting tired of others thinking they knew him better than he did. While it was true that he'd been worried about what his family would think if he wasn't Sorted into Gryffindor, the main reason for it wasn't what everyone thought. He was worried because he knew that he was NOT a Gryffindor.
1. The Infamous Sorting

Albus Potter and the Cunning Plan

Chapter one

Author: lunadeath02

Pairing(s): Albus/Scorpius, other minor ones (including Harry/Ginny, loosely, and Draco/Astoria)

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: language, some canon is ignored; OC's for story's sake; minor angst, dark tones and violence in later chapters, about what you might find in the average HP book.

Notes: Post-epilogue; takes place right after the end of the epilogue when Albus boarded the Hogwarts Express. This will be a much different take on the life of Albus Severus Potter than my other fic, and will probably ignore some canon.

Spoilers: All seven books

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and its characters belong to JK Rowling and Warner Brothers, etc. But the original characters in here are mine. Don't use them without my permission.

.-.

**The Infamous Sorting**

Once the Hogwarts Express rounded the bend and Albus could no longer see his parents and sister waving at him, he made his way down the aisle to find a compartment. It was only rational that he would sit with his brother and cousin, and so he did, at least for a while.

But his cousin, Rose, decided to find another compartment. The reason being that she couldn't stand the roughhousing James and his friends Kevin Mars and Gareth Jupitus were doing. She wanted to finish reading the first chapter of her _Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1),_ but she couldn't concentrate from all the noise.

Although Albus wasn't doing the same as his cousin, he found the rowdiness of his Gryffindor brother, and his brother's friends, to be a bit taxing. So he agreed to follow Rose out, thankfully without any comments from James for doing so. He honestly couldn't understand James most times, and he didn't think he wanted to. Could he even stand to be in the same common room as him, let alone the same House?

The only other compartment that was free for them to sit in had one person inside already. He recognized the blond-haired boy as Scorpius Malfoy, Draco Malfoy's son. Rose recollected him being mentioned by her parents too, but didn't seem to care.

"Remember," Albus jokingly said in a low tone, "don't get too friendly with him."

"Oh hush," Rose said, cheeks lightly dusted with pink. Although Rose had freckles like the average Weasley, they were a cinnamon brown, and her hair was more like a burnt amber than flaming red, which made her stand out during the Weasley family gatherings. So did the fact that she much preferred a book to any Quidditch game. She was somewhat of the odd duck out, like Albus.

"Guess this is as good a spot as any," Albus said. He'd only heard vague mentions of the Malfoy family, but he hadn't paid it much mind. To him, the Malfoys were just that old wizarding family that had given his Dad and Uncle Ron trouble, but nothing too sinister (or so his Dad had said, but his uncle would go on and on about how evil the Malfoys were and how they came from a long line of Slytherins). Besides, if Malfoy was quiet during the trip it would save on his headache, and Rose would get her reading done.

Ever since they were little, Al and Rose had been rather close, both of them despairing for their brothers and cousins. Albus was almost frequently teased by James, and it became doubly so whenever James had his friends over. Rose was forever annoyed with her little brother Hugo, who seemed to like snooping into her stuff even though she would repeatedly tell him not to. Whenever Rose and Hugo came to visit the Potters, Rose always hid in Al's room for some peace and quiet, and because they got along a lot better than the other cousins. Yes, even his cousins Lucy and Molly sometimes got on his—their—nerves.

Albus slid the compartment door open. It startled Malfoy and he looked up, mouth opening as if ready to make some sort of remark, but when he saw who it was that entered his retort died and he began to stare dumbfounded.

"Mind if we sit here? The other compartments are full."

"Suppose not," Malfoy said. His voice had a slight haughty manner to it, but Al paid it no mind.

"Thanks," said Al. He seated himself across from Malfoy, doing his best to seem friendly. "I'm Albus," he added after a pause, not wanting to seem rude as well. "Albus Potter."

"Yes, I've heard of you," Malfoy said. "Father talks about the Potters and Weasleys often enough." He looked over as Rose sat herself beside Albus. "You're a Weasley, aren't you? I can't tell for sure."

"Yeah, I am," Rose said, blushing softly. "And you're Scorpius Malfoy."

"Obviously," Malfoy said. He looked as if he wasn't sure whether to be nice or put on a sneer. Finally he settled for staring out the window. Albus decided to do the same since he didn't want to cause any trouble before he even got to Hogwarts. Rose sighed in pleasure at the silence and took out her book.

"Oh," Malfoy said after a moment, startling Al to look away from the passing scenery. "You're one of those bookworms, I see." He then looked as if he couldn't believe he'd just said that.

Albus glanced at Rose, but Rose hadn't raised her eyes from her book, obviously trying to ignore Malfoy. Albus looked back at Malfoy, wondering what he was getting at.

"So what if she is?" Al spoke up for his cousin. "Is there something wrong with being interested in books and knowledge?"

"'Course not," Malfoy sniffed. "But it's obvious from the swottiness that Miss Weasley here is the daughter of Hermione Weasley, nee Granger, wife of Ronald Weasley."

Albus had no clue as to how Malfoy knew all this, and then remembered how he'd said that he heard about Al from his father and figured that that was where Malfoy had heard of Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione too.

"And I suppose it was obvious that I'm the son of Harry Potter," Albus said.

"Yes," said Malfoy, "and it's also obvious that you'll end up in the same House as him. Harry Potter was a notorious Gryffindor, getting into danger and getting out of it by sheer luck; having a 'saving people thing'; thinking he was above everyone else just because he defeated the Dark Lord during the war, that sort of thing."

Albus felt anger burn deep within his core, but tamed it quickly. Scorpius Malfoy had most likely heard all this from his father, and hadn't heard much from the other perspective. He had no idea what Malfoy meant by the whole 'defeating the Dark Lord' thing, but maybe he was talking about the war his parents had been in at Hogwarts. Al took a few calming breaths and then looked Malfoy in the eye.

"It's true that my dad was a well-known Gryffindor and that he was into saving people (isn't that a Gryffindor thing anyway?), but you're wrong in thinking that he thought himself better than anyone else. My dad is very humble about such things, and whenever anyone asks him about any of the stuff he did during his school days, he gets embarrassed and changes the subject. I know him much better than you, so don't assume that everything you hear about him is true. That's being condemnatory."

"Big word for a Gryffindor," said Malfoy.

"And how do you know I'll be a Gryffindor?" Albus shot back. "For all you know, I could get Sorted into a different House."

"I don't know about that," Malfoy said. "You've got an older brother in Gryffindor, don't you? It's obvious you'll follow his example."

Albus was getting really tired of others thinking they knew him better than he did. While it was true that he'd been worried about what his family would think if he wasn't Sorted into Gryffindor, the main reason for it wasn't what everyone thought. James kept teasing him, saying he'll be in Slytherin; his Uncle Ron would teasingly say that he'd disown them (Al and Rose) if they were Sorted into Slytherin, and so on. He was worried mainly because he _knew_ that he wasn't a Gryffindor. He didn't want to disappoint his parents or his aunt and uncles, but the more Al thought on it the more likely it became.

He glanced at Rose, but she was still busy trying to concentrate on her textbook. And from the looks of it, she was done with chapter one and going on chapter two.

Al didn't know why he said it, especially with his cousin sitting right there, but he admitted aloud, "I won't be in Gryffindor."

Rose gasped and looked up from The Standard Book of Spells. Malfoy's posture straightened considerably in his seat. They were both staring at him with confused and bewildered expressions.

"What do you mean you won't be in Gryffindor?" Rose said. "You're brave, aren't you? And chivalrous."

"That's just it," Al said, shrugging. He looked at his feet, scuffing the toe of his shoe on the floor. "I really don't want to be… brave all the time."

Rose looked as if she'd just seen a troll in a tutu doing rhythmic gymnastics.

"I'm serious; I'm not brave," Al explained more clearly. "I just… didn't want to disappoint Dad." He hung his head.

"Oh, Al," Rose sighed. She placed her bookmark into the textbook and closed it, set it aside, and scooted closer to her favorite cousin. "You know that sometimes bravery doesn't come easy. Look at Professor Longbottom. Our parents have told us again and again how when he was a student at Hogwarts he was somewhat meek and scared a lot, but he still stood up for what was right, and had done some really courageous acts during the battle at Hogwarts."

"True," Al sighed. "But that isn't what I mean by saying that I'm not brave. What I mean is: I'm not like James. I'm not even like Dad in that respect, not overly anyway. And I…" Albus swallowed a lump in his throat, sensing that Malfoy was watching and listening closely, but Al didn't care. He'd never spoken about his thoughts on who he was and what he was like aloud. "You see, Rose, if I had the choice between saving my own skin and fighting…" Here, Albus shrugged, hoping Rose understood.

"You mean… you'd run away?" Rose said, voice barely above a whisper. She sounded flabbergasted.

"To live another day," Al said jokingly, and he gave her a half-smile, hoping it was enough to defuse the situation.

"You're—you're serious," Malfoy said, looking just as stunned. "But, if you won't be telling the Sorting Hat that you want to be in Gryffindor, then what will you tell it?"

"That's just it," Albus frowned. "I'm not sure. I'm definitely not a Hufflepuff. I don't like hard work and always being so bloody truthful (who wants to live like that?). I'm certainly not a swotty Ravenclaw—no offense, Rose. I mean, I like learning and being able to acquire new spells and such, but I don't want to keep my nose buried in books."

Albus looked away sheepishly, eyes lowered. He didn't want to say what else he was thinking, about his characteristics and viewpoints. Of course, not saying anything was also as good as telling them outright about where he knew he'd be sorted.

"And?" Malfoy said, hanging off the edge of his seat. "What about Slytherin?"

Al's frown deepened and his brow knitted together, but he still didn't look at either of them.

"My parents, and most of my relatives, hope I don't end up in Slytherin," he said gloomily.

Malfoy and Rose waited to see if he would say anything else, but he didn't. They looked at each other and then back to Albus.

"And?" Malfoy repeated.

"And," said Albus, "I—I'm a coward!" He buried his face into his hands; his voice was muffled on rest of his words. "I'm shifty, cunning, resourceful, and… and full of determination… and I want to-to prove myself..."

The compartment was dead silent. Albus's shoulders shook as he tried to keep hold of his emotions, but it was futile. Rose realized almost immediately that her cousin was crying and put an arm around his shoulders. Unable to help it, Al pressed his wet face into her shoulder and let the tears silently fall. He had no idea why he was crying; he must have been bottling it all up since he'd first realized he wasn't a Gryffindor. Which had probably been the day before they left for King's Cross. Not only that, but he'd had an inkling of it since he was six years old, but hadn't thought much of it.

"I'm—I'm n-not evil," Al sobbed into Rose's neck. "I swear I'm not! But if I'm Sorted into Slytherin, all—my family will—will think so!"

"Of course they won't think you're evil," Rose said, continuing to rub his back in a soothing manner. "Remember what your dad said before we left for King's Cross? He said that it is our choices that show who we really are, not our abilities. And remember that you're named after one of the greatest Slytherin headmasters Hogwarts had even had, and he was Dumbledore's man through and through, just like your dad." Rose blushed lightly when she realized she'd been mostly repeating what she'd read in one of the books that talked about her uncle Harry and his adventures.

Albus remembered, but it didn't make him feel any better. James was going to tease and mock him even worse now. He was doomed to be nicknamed Asp forever.

"Hey, Slytherin House is the best," Malfoy said, and Al wasn't sure if he was trying to make him feel better or was boasting. "Father told me about it all. The other three Houses despise Slytherin, but they don't know what they're missing, really. The House may have turned out more dark witches and wizards than any other, but that doesn't mean that all dark witches and wizards came from Slytherin. Father told me that there had been a few bad eggs from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff as well, and even a handful from Ravenclaw. So really, just because a person is Sorted into Slytherin doesn't necessarily mean they're evil."

Albus removed himself from Rose midway through Scorpius's little speech and sat there listening. When Malfoy finished, Al nodded solemnly, wondering if it was possible that he could be Slytherin and good at the same time.

"You'll be a great wizard, Albus, just like your father and namesakes," Rose said, still looking at him with sympathetic eyes. "Just because your temperament is aimed more toward Slytherin doesn't necessarily mean you're a bad person. I mean, your dad had a few Slytherin qualities when he was at Hogwarts, did you know? I've read all about it in the new edition of _Hogwarts, A History_. Your dad had a lot of resourcefulness and a certain disregard for the rules. That didn't mean he'd wound up bad."

"No, but he still ended up in Gryffindor because he told the Hat to put him in there," Albus said. He sighed and brought his knees up to hug, burying half his face into his knees. "I'm going to disappoint him, I just know it."

"Of course you won't! Just like I won't disappoint my parents by going into Ravenclaw."

Albus uncoiled himself and angled closer to Rose. "You really mean that?"

"Mean what?" Rose asked, leaning away from him.

"That you'll be Sorted into Ravenclaw."

"Oh, yes," she said, straightening up in her seat. "I'm bound to be put in Ravenclaw. I mean, Gryffindor's nice and all, but I'd much prefer a good book to all the running around and breaking rules."

Albus smiled. "Yeah, me too. You don't think… I mean, maybe I could try for Ravenclaw after all."

"But you've just said that you're not a Ravenclaw," Rose pointed out. "You don't want to be always stuck with your nose in a book, remember? That's what you said."

"Oh yeah," Al sighed. He knew he'd make a terrible Ravenclaw. "But—but _Slytherin_?" He felt miserable again.

"Oi, pureblood Slytherin sitting right here!" Malfoy huffed.

"Case in point," Albus laughed. And just like that, the majority of his sadness left him.

"Not funny, Potter."

"Oh, quit your pouting. Besides, who says you're a Slytherin? What if you end up in Hufflepuff?"

"Perish the thought!" Malfoy gasped. "I'd beg Father to put me in Durmstrang if that were to happen. I'm sure he could do it, too."

"Well, you definitely have the determination down," Rose commented. "And some cunning, too."

"That I do," Malfoy smirked.

"So you should have no worries as to which House you're to be Sorted into," Al said. "As for me…"

"So what if you're put in Slytherin?" Malfoy said, glowering. "You certainly won't regret it; I can assure you of that. Father has told me loads of stories of his time in Slytherin, and believe me, none of those goodie-goodie Gryffindors know of the things that happen down in the dungeons."

That piqued Al's interest, so with dry eyes and curiosity thrumming through him, he urged Malfoy to go on. Malfoy looked to Rose, as if silently wondering if it was okay to speak while she was there, and Albus reassured him that Rose was fine and that they could trust her.

"She must promise not to tell," Malfoy said. "I know that some handpicked Ravenclaws have been invited to a few Slytherin do's, so I'm sure it'll be fine with the Head of Slytherin as long as she promises."

"Yes, of course I promise not to tell," Rose said straightaway. "What do you take me for, a Hufflepuff?"

Albus laughed.

"All right then," Malfoy said, leaning closer toward them. "And I'm only saying this to you now, Potter; because you're sure you'll be Sorted into Slytherin." He motioned for them to come closer, and they did. "There are private parties that the Slytherin House throws, and other such get-togethers, that the other Houses have no knowledge of—except for, of course, a handful of chosen Ravenclaws."

"What sort of parties?" Rose asked in a hushed, yet excited, voice.

"Depends on the age groups and the things being celebrated. There are also other things available to the Slytherin students once they hit a certain age. There used to be other goings-on before the War of Hogwarts, but since then those things have been eliminated."

"What other things?" Al asked.

"I don't know the details because my father wouldn't tell me," Malfoy said. He sat back in his seat again, and Rose and Al did the same, knowing that Malfoy was done telling them secrets—for now.

"Do you feel any better now, Al?" Rose asked.

"Somewhat," said Al. He turned toward her with a pleading look. "Rose, please do whatever it takes to be Sorted into Ravenclaw. I wouldn't be able to invite you to any Slytherin parties and things if you were put in Gryffindor."

"Don't worry," Rose said with a slight smile. "Hadn't I told you already that I know that I won't be in Gryffindor? Al, you have nothing to worry about. If you're Sorted into Slytherin, you've got my back. Let James be an arse; it'll be his problem if he can't handle it, not yours."

She was right, Albus knew. He didn't care what James thought of him, not really. It was his dad he was more worried about. He knew that his dad had told him that he wouldn't mind if he were Sorted into Slytherin, that he wouldn't think any less of him. Even though he would have Dad's support, and Rose's, he still wondered how the rest of his Gryffindor family would react to the news.

Malfoy was now staring at him differently than he had when he first saw him. Albus wasn't sure if he should be pleased by that or not. He hunted around in his head for a topic so that he could continue getting to know the blond boy, but was interrupted mid-thought by the lady with the cart full of sweets.

Together, the three of them bought as much as they liked. Malfoy had the most gold on him, but didn't spend it all. He told them it was because his father wanted him to save as much pocket change as possible, because he never knew when he'd need a Galleon or two. Albus tried to be prudent in his pickings, and Rose only bought a few things to tide her over until the Sorting Feast. Al knew about most of these candies of course; especially the Chocolate Frogs. He had quite the card collection. He bought as many as he could, hoping to get a few cards he didn't have yet. Albus also bought some Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, and a couple Drooble's Best Blowing Gum.

When Al got his fifth Dumbledore card, he offered it to Scorpius.

"That's… kind of you, but I'm not really much into collecting those."

"How can you say that?" Al exclaimed. "Chocolate Frog cards are awesome. I'm close to getting them all. I even have a card that Uncle Ron doesn't have yet: Cornelius Agrippa. I'm only missing Andros the Invincible and Cyprian Youdle."

"Willing to trade then?" Rose said, a sudden gleam in her eyes. She had a card clutched against her chest, her knuckles white.

Al stared at her face for a moment, wondering why she was looking like that, and then glanced at the card she was clutching. "Wait—you're not saying—"

"Well, I don't have Ketteridge yet," Rose nodded toward Albus's pile of Frog cards. "So I was thinking you'd like to trade that for…" she paused for a moment for dramatic effect, and then slowly revealed the card she had hidden: it was Andros the Invincible.

"Rosie!" Al gasped in delight, bouncing slightly in his seat. "Oh, I can't believe this! Oh, yes, by all means!" Al scooped up the card she wanted and held it out to her. "I have Elladora Ketteridge already, so yes, let's trade!"

Rose took the Ketteridge card from Al's hand first, and then teased Al with the Andros card, trying to play keep-away, but she was shorter than him and he had much better reflexes than her. He snatched it out of her hand after a bit of flailing, and although he was acting annoyed he was smiling. He hadn't felt this lighthearted in days.

Malfoy was shaking his head in dismay and rubbing his eyes. "Why couldn't I have a compartment to myself?" he muttered.

When Albus finally opened his Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans carton, he tried offering some to Malfoy, but Malfoy politely declined. He told them he'd had too much bad luck when I came to those beans.

"I always get the horrible ones," he told Al. "I have no idea why."

"Working off some bad karma?" Rose snickered. "All right, you big babies, I'll try one."

Albus and Malfoy watched her as she stuck a hand inside the box and carefully searched. When she finally felt confident enough with what she had, she lifted the bean up for inspection first. It was gray with spots.

"I'll bet that's dust flavored," Malfoy said.

"Nah, I'm betting on pepper," Al said.

"If it were me picking, it would be dust, no doubt about it," said Malfoy. "Or some other horrible flavor."

Rose bravely put it into her mouth and chewed. A few seconds later, she was sticking out her tongue and fanning it with her hand. "Ohh, hot! Hot!"

"It was pepper then?" Al said smugly. "I knew it!"

"If you're so good at knowing which is which," said Malfoy, "then you try one."

"All right, I will!" Albus said. So he wouldn't lose his nerve, Al plunged his hand in quickly and grabbed the first one he could find. The bean was a green color, but that didn't mean it was innocent.

"Perfect bean for you, Al," said Rose. "Green's your favorite color, isn't it? Well, go on then. Eat it!"

"It's probably green apple," Al reasoned. "Or maybe lime… or sprout—" he bit into it and then quickly spit it out. "Ugh, grass!"

Rose and Scorpius laughed. Well, at least it wasn't bogie flavored.

The train finally stopped in Hogsmeade. Albus was still nervous but not as nervous has he had been when he first boarded. During the majority of the ride, not only did he have fun with his favorite cousin, but Malfoy was slowly warming up to them. Although Malfoy still seemed a little prickly, he wasn't sneering as often anymore. He'd learned only a few things about Scorpius Malfoy during their ride: like his favorite colors were green, black, blue, and aquamarine; he had a fat, spoiled eagle owl named Horus, and his favorite food was black pudding. In return, Albus had told him a bit about himself: that his favorite colors were green, blue, and purple; he owned a sleek, black owl named Merlin; and his favorite foods were treacle tart, Chocolate Frogs, and chips (the British kind). Rose didn't comment much during this, but had only mentioned that her favorite colors were pink and blue.

As they walked down the train aisle - Malfoy in front of them, Al in the middle - James came out suddenly from one of the compartments closest to the prefects' carriage. Al almost forgot where James and his friends were on the train, but as James stuck his head out and noticed them, he smiled at Al before sticking his foot out. Malfoy didn't see James' foot in time and fell forward. Albus tried to catch him, but wasn't fast enough to break his fall; all he'd done was grab a fistful of robes and end up ripping them. Malfoy had automatically put his hands out to catch himself, only giving himself slight scrapes and bruises on his palms.

"James!" Rose reprimanded. "What did you do that for?"

"Oh, I think Malfoy knows," James said with a cheeky grin. "Don't you, you little snake?"

"Leave him alone," Al growled. He faced his brother after helping Malfoy up, and as they were having a glaring contest, Malfoy noticed the rip in his robes.

"Potter, look what you did!" he bellowed, holding the hem of his new robes up.

Both Potters turned their heads toward Malfoy.

"It was your own fault you weren't looking where you were going," James said.

"I'm sorry, Scorpius," Al said. He knew it was his fault, after all. "I meant to catch you before you could fall and break your nose."

"Would have been funny to see that, actually," James said with a grin.

"No, it would not!" Rose cried. "Will you stop being a bully already? Remember what our parents told us?"

"You're not my mother, Rose," James said. "Nor are you yours, so shut it."

Before Albus could get back into James' face, somebody behind them complained because they wanted to get off the train before they missed the carriages. They all agreed to get a move on, the first years needing to get to the boats. Al stuck as close as possible to Malfoy after that, afraid someone else might try to do the blond boy harm. Malfoy was dusting his hands off best he could; the train's floor wasn't as clean when they'd first boarded.

"Here, let me help you with that," Rose said to Malfoy as they lined up to follow Hagrid to the boats. She took out her wand—ash, ten inches, unicorn hair—and with a quick flick she had mended Malfoy's robes.

Malfoy was both shocked and confused. He looked over his robes to see how she'd done, and when he couldn't find anything wrong with them, he was grateful. "Thank you, Weasley."

"Don't mention it," she said with a shrug and a blush. "I learned all about mending and knitting from my mother. She's aces at spells and charms. Also, let me help you with your scrapes as well." She flourished her wand, and Malfoy's hands were as good as new again.

"Wow," said a girl standing next to them. "That an awesome bit of magic. Where'd you learn that?"

"My mother taught me," Rose replied. "Of course, it wasn't until after I continued to pester her about it after seeing her do it to me. I don't like to get hurt, you see, but it is sometimes unavoidable and I'd like to know how to heal myself in case of emergencies."

"Maybe you could teach me that spell," the girl said. "I can sometimes be a bit clumsy, and that spell will definitely come in handy." The blonde-haired girl looked clumsy too, if her appearance was anything to go by; she looked as if she'd tripped twice on the train already.

"Of course," Rose said. "What's your name, then, and what House do you think you'll be in? I'm betting I'll be in Ravenclaw."

"I'm Delia Moon," said the girl. "My parents were both in Ravenclaw, so I'm pretty sure that's where I'll go too. I know quite a few spells myself, but never tried a healing spell. What's your name?"

"Rose Weasley," said Rose. They shook hands. "Pleasure to meet you."

"And you," Delia Moon said. "And are these your friends?" she looked at Al, Scorpius, and another boy who'd been behind them heading for the boats.

"Albus is my cousin," Rose said. "My favorite cousin, I'd like to think. Scorpius is a friend, I suppose. We just met on the train. This boy here… um, sorry, I don't know him. He just happened to be behind us on the train and is following us to the boats."

The boy scoffed, obviously amused. He had dark brown hair and blue-green eyes, a little taller than Al, almost the height of Malfoy. Albus thought about asking him for his name, but then he would have missed the continued conversation between Moon and his cousin.

"Oh, I see," said Moon. "Well, pleased to meet you, Albus and Scorpius. Will you two be in Ravenclaw too?"

"Slytherin," Malfoy said, and Albus kept his eyes down on his feet as he nodded very minutely. He wasn't sure if Moon saw his nod or just took Scorpius' answer to mean he was speaking for the both of them.

"Oh, I see," Moon said again. She pursed her lips as if in thought. Then she finally said, "Well, I suppose that's all right. Mother knew a couple Slytherins, but they had no part in the last war at Hogwarts. I suppose they were decent enough."

They were able to get into the boats three to four at a time. Al, Malfoy, Rose, and Moon were in one boat. The boy that had been following them went into another boat with two other boys. Albus noticed that he'd stared at him and Malfoy for a bit, as if he wanted to say something, but then thought better of it. Albus wondered if the boy knew who he and Scorpius were, and if he'd be in one of their houses.

The fleet of boats moved at the same time, gliding across the lake. The castle loomed before them as they sailed toward it. Al heard Hagrid tell them to put their heads down and they obeyed. They went through a curtain of ivy and found themselves in a dark tunnel. Al heard a few other kids mutter and talk in hushed voices, obviously a bit thrilled and frightened all at once. The dark didn't scare Albus; he was mostly worried about falling into the smooth, glass-like water and drowning.

Finally, they reached an underground harbor. Climbing out, Albus was glad to be off the water. Malfoy made a noise that echoed his feeling. The eerie thought of being more like Malfoy than he first thought worried him only slightly. He would like to be his own person, and not have to take after anyone (although he knew that wasn't going to happen; he was probably like his dad in many ways, except for a few details in his personality).

They followed Hagrid and his lamp out of the passageway and onto some grass. There was a flight of stone steps they had to climb before entering the castle. Hagrid knocked and the door swung open. Before them stood Professor Longbottom in his ruby-red robes. There was a smudge of dirt on his cheek and a cut on his forehead as if he'd already been working in the greenhouses.

"Evening, Neville," said Hagrid. "Er, I mean, Professor Longbottom." They shared a grin. "'Ere are the firs' years then."

"Thanks, Hagrid," Neville said. He pulled the double doors wide open. Albus gawked at how huge the entrance hall was, and the marble staircase that faced them no doubt led to the upper floors. He heard the one boy behind him mutter a swear word at the sight, and only a few first years around them giggled nervously from the boy's boldness.

They follow Professor Longbottom into a small, empty chamber off the hall and not inside the Great Hall yet. They crowded around, and at once Neville noticed Albus and Rose standing at the front, along with Scorpius, Delia, and the other boy whom had been mistaken as someone they already knew.

"All right, Al?" Neville said. "Rose?"

Al and Rose nodded and smiled. Neville's gaze slowly went to Malfoy, and he smiled. Scorpius didn't know what to make of this professor, but he'd heard a few things from his father. He bowed his head slightly in respect, because Longbottom was a professor after all, and tried to return the smile.

"Scorpius Malfoy, I presume?" Professor Longbottom said. "I hope you won't give my friend's, I mean, Harry Potter's son any trouble. He's a good lad."

"Malfoy's a friend, Neville," said Albus. "Er, I mean, Professor…"

Neville grinned from ear to ear. "Well, that'll shock the ever living dung out of old Draco. Er, anyway," he put his professor voice back on, "welcome to Hogwarts, everyone! The start-of-term feast will begin very soon, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall you'll be Sorted into your Houses." This was something Albus and Rose already knew, of course, but Neville had to give this speech at the beginning of every year. "The Sorting is important, as I'm sure most of you know. While you're here, your house will be like your family. You'll have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your respective house common rooms. Please do not visit other's common rooms too often, if you make yourself a friend from another house. If you wish to spend time together, I suggest you meet somewhere neutral, like the library or the lovely courtyard we have located in the middle of the castle.

"I'm sure many of you already know the Houses, but I'm obliged to say them because some of you have never heard of Hogwarts before. They are: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has a noble history, and believe it or not, each has produced many outstanding witches and wizards—yes, even Slytherin. So while you're here at Hogwarts your triumphs will earn your House points, while any rule breaking will lose you points, and at the end of the year the House with the most points gets the house cup.

"The Sorting Ceremony will happen in just a few minutes here, which will take place in front of the rest of the school. Don't be too nervous, now; it won't hurt, I assure you. Just stay calm and be yourselves, all right? I'll return when we're ready for you. Wait patiently for just a little while longer."

Professor Longbottom left the chamber. Albus, Rose, and Scorpius glanced at one another.

"How are we being Sorted?" the boy next to them asked. "Why didn't the Professor say how we're to be Sorted? Is it a pop quiz or something?"

"I don't think so," Albus said. "I'm trying to remember what my brother had told me… I think there's a hat of some kind."

"I do hope you're right," said the boy. "I haven't even cracked open any of my textbooks yet. I didn't think we'd have to worry about tests in the beginning, since we're first years and all."

Albus decided that since they've spoken more than a few words with each other, it was only polite to exchange names. He turned to the boy and said, "I'm Albus Potter. What's your name?"

"I'm Knight," said the boy. "Harold Knight, but everyone calls me Harry." He ducked his head in embarrassment. Then he suddenly jerked his head back up and stared dumbfounded at Al. "Wait, did you say 'Potter'? As in, Harry Potter? I mean, are you two related in some way?"

Albus nodded. "Yeah, he's my dad."

"Bloody hell," Knight exclaimed. "I was named after him. It's a little embarrassing."

Albus's eyes widened. Rose was also taking interest in the conversation, and just as shocked by the news.

"Well, it's nice to meet you," said Albus. He held out his hand and at first Knight didn't take it, but then after staring into Al's determined face for a few seconds, he smiled and put his hand into Al's.

"A pleasure," Knight said. "What House do you think you'll be Sorted into?"

"Um… I'm not entirely sure—"

"But, Al," said Scorpius, "you told Rose and I that—" Albus stomped on his foot in order to shut him up.

"I do know that I won't be in Hufflepuff," Albus said loudly over Scorpius's gasps of pain and swearing. "So that's narrowed it down."

"I know about the Houses, of course," said Knight. "Yet, I don't recall the whole Sorting thing. If someone told me, I must have forgotten. I'm not the most studious person in the world, you see." He laughed nervously. "Sometimes I'm a bit forgetful, too, especially when it comes to certain academics."

"You won't be in Ravenclaw then," Rose said. "That's the house I'll be in, I know…"

Before any more could be said between the three, the doors opened again and Professor Longbottom was back.

"The Sorting Ceremony's about to start. Form a double line and follow me—no pushing now; it's not a first come, first serve ordeal."

They did as they were told. Just as they were entering the Great Hall, ghosts appeared from behind walls and up from the floor. A few first years gasped and a couple of them hid behind those that were taller than them. Albus, Rose, and Scorpius just watched them in awe (they've been told about ghosts, and even Rose and Al had met the ghoul in the Burrow's attic). Even Harold Knight and Delia Moon were watching the ghosts without fear. One particular sandy-haired boy, however, was cowering behind a stout girl, nearly sobbing.

"Bet that one's in Slytherin," guffawed Knight when he noticed the cowering boy. "Look at him shake!"

"You know," said Al, "it's not nice to pick on those less fortunate. I'm sure there's something you're frightened of, too."

Harold Knight turned and looked at Albus with raised eyebrows. "Me? Don't be absurd, Potter. The only thing I'm afraid of is my Auntie Mable when she's overly affectionate."

"Great," Malfoy whispered into Albus's ear from his other side. "You've just made friends with a goodie-goodie Gryffindor. Good going, Potter."

"Well, how was I to know where he might be Sorted?" Albus whispered harshly back. "It's not like we all know for certain. And anyway, I'm not going to suddenly hate him just because of what House he gets in. We should all remember that."

"He's being obnoxious and rude," Malfoy countered.

"You weren't all sunshine and daisies yourself, Malfoy," Albus retorted. "But I still want to be your friend."

Malfoy mumbled something inaudible and backed off. Al hoped he hadn't ruined their newly bonded friendship already.

"Come on now, stop bickering," Rose said from behind him. "We've not even reached the front of the room yet."

Soon enough, after admiring the way the Great Hall was, and the ceiling (which apparently was bewitched to look like the night sky, according to Rose), they made it to the top of the hall in front of a long table where there were adults sitting (most likely teachers and staff). The other four tables they had passed between were full of other students already, and as Al walked by one of the tables he saw his brother sit up straighter and wave at him frantically. Albus waved back, but with less enthusiasm.

They stood in a line at the front, the head table was on a slightly raised dais and there were four steps up to it. Professor Longbottom placed a four-legged stool in front of them on the top of the dais, and then on top of the stool Neville put a pointed wizard's hat. Albus stared and wondered if this was how they were going to get Sorted.

The hat looked very old. It was frayed and patched and really dirty. It looked like something Scorpius, or even Uncle Percy, would never touch with a ten-foot pole. But how was a battered old thing supposed to Sort them exactly?

Albus's thought was answered when it opened its brim and began to speak. Well, not speak… more like sing!

_Although I'm quite old,_

_ And maybe a little ratty_

_ You'll find no other hat,_

_ That is as smart or steady._

_ For the Hogwarts founders_

_ Stuck some brains into me,_

_ And I'll be able to sort you_

_ Where you best ought to be._

_ Do you belong in Gryffindor,_

_ Where those possess bravery and daring?_

_ Or is it hardworking and loyal Hufflepuff_

_ That sounds most endearing?_

_ Perhaps you'd be in Ravenclaw,_

_ With those of sharp wit and love of learning._

_ But then there's the cunning Slytherin_

_ That's ambitious and full of yearning._

_ Each house is uniquely gifted,_

_ Has produced many wonderful _

_Wizards and witches._

_And so with my power I shall pull,_

_To find deep inside what makes you great._

_ So put me on, young ones, _

_And I'll tell you your fate._

Once the Sorting Hat was done singing, the entire Hall broke out into applause. Albus wasn't expecting the hat to actually sing, let alone have a mouth; but he supposed that just as the Sorting Hat had said: the Hogwarts founders had stuck some brains into it. Besides that, Albus mused, it was magical.

Now Professor Longbottom stepped up holding a long scroll of parchment. Albus was sure he knew what was to come next.

"Okay then, when I call your name—surname first, of course, then your given name… it's in alphabetical order, you see—then I'll put the hat on you once you've sat yourself on the stool. The Hat will then Sort you into your house." Neville then brought his gaze back to the parchment and read aloud:

"Annesley, Emmett!"

A boy with dark hair and piercing blue eyes stepped forward. Albus recognized him as someone that he saw hanging around Moon and one other boy. Emmett sat nervously on the stool, the hat going right over his eyes. It took a little time for the hat to do anything, and then finally it shouted: "Ravenclaw!"

Emmett took off the hat, handed it to Neville, and went to join his fellow Ravenclaws. The whole Ravenclaw table was clapping and cheering for their first new fellow bookworm.

"Baddock, Starla!"

A rather cute, small girl went to the stool in an almost robotic fashion. She looked very nervous. But the hat didn't take much time at all in deciding where to put her—

"Slytherin!"

"Boo, hiss," said Knight, and Albus looked back at him and gave him a glare. Malfoy was doing the same, and when Knight realized they were staring daggers at him, he gave them an unconcerned look and a shoulder shrug.

"Belby, Elizabeth!"

"Gryffindor!" the hat proclaimed almost immediately. The entire Gryffindor table erupted into huge applause. The girl, Belby, took off the hat and confidently went to her family of lions.

"Bletchley, Hawk!"

"Slytherin!" There were more booing and hissing from certain tables. Albus was starting to get sick of them.

"Boot, Robert!"

"Ravenclaw!" the hat shouted. "Carmichael, Naomi" had gone into Ravenclaw as well. Then "Cauldwell, Tiffany" was put in Hufflepuff (their first of the evening), and again "Chambers, Cosmo" was put into Ravenclaw.

Finally, the hat found another Slytherin in "Cornfoot, Caroline". Albus couldn't help but find her pretty too, but she seemed rather full of herself.

A few more Gryffindors were announced (including "Finnigan, Shannon!") as well as more Ravenclaws ("Entwhistle, Ariel!"), and some Slytherins. "Goyle, Vincent" was among them. A few more Hufflepuffs ("Hurt, Hailey!"), and then one more Gryffindor before Knight was called up.

"Knight, Harold!"

A little apprehensive, Knight went up to put the hat on. He actually sat there for a while, biting his bottom lip. If Albus could guess what was happening, it looked to him like Knight was arguing with the hat inside his head.

Finally, the hat shouted: "Gryffindor!"

"Told you," Malfoy whispered into his ear, his breath hot. "There was no other explanation for his attitude."

"He could've been a Hufflepuff," Al whispered back. It was true; his dad had told him about this one really annoying Hufflepuff during his school year. Albus hoped this batch of Hufflepuffs weren't going to be the same.

There were only a few more names called out before Professor Longbottom reached: "Malfoy, Scorpius!"

With only a few nerves, Malfoy slid onto the stool as Neville placed the hat on his head. It didn't take very long for the hat to shout: "Slytherin!"

Albus clapped along with the rest of the Slytherin table.

"Good luck," Scorpius whispered to him on his way to the sea of green and silver. Albus smiled his thanks.

After "Montague, Terra" was made a Slytherin too, it was Delia Moon's turn. Rose wished her luck; it seemed that she'd struck a fast friendship with the odd girl.

"Ravenclaw!"

Albus applauded kindly, and Moon smiled and nodded at him in recognition. He hoped she'd become a friend of sort too, even if he was Sorted into another house…

It was almost Albus's turn now. "Morgan, Rupert" was made a Gryffindor. "Nott, Hydrus" was made a Slytherin. "Peakes, Zerelda" became a Gryffindor.

"Potter, Albus!"

Al shakingly got up to the stool. He knew he was being stared at, because so many had heard and read about Dad. He was never told exactly what his dad had done (vanquished some sort of dark wizard, he guessed), but it had become more and more evident that his dad was rather well-known throughout the wizarding world. Dad seemed to like keeping a few of his school days a secret, even from his family. He reminded himself quickly that he should ask Rose about it and then together they could search the library for answers (that was, if Harry didn't feel the need to tell them anything still).

The hat was placed on his head and suddenly he lost his sight. He could still feel the entire Hall staring at him, though, waiting for the verdict. Then Al heard a little voice in his ear, and he figured it must be the Sorting Hat.

"Well, well, well—" it drawled. "We've got ourselves another Potter. Your brother was quite easy to place, but it seems you're not so lucky. So, let me see…"

_I'm no Hufflepuff, I know that,_ Albus thought.

"Yes," agreed the Hat. "That's no place for you. Hmm… interesting; I can see two distinct possibilities here, but where should I put you?"

Al knew that before, when he and his family had got ready for their trip to King's Cross, he'd been worried that he'd be Sorted into Slytherin, and it was mainly because of the fact that the majority of his family had been in Gryffindor. He was also worried what Dad would think, and James' teasing that he'd be put into Slytherin hadn't helped matters at all. But when his dad assured him that they—Harry and Ginny—wouldn't really care if he were Sorted into Slytherin, that had eased a lot of his worry. He wasn't like his brother; he wasn't his dad; and he certainly wasn't his aunts and uncles. Not only that, but he doubted he could even put up with being in the lion's den.

_Not Gryffindor,_ Albus thought hard, gripping the edges of the stool. _Please, not Gryffindor—I know it's not for me…_

"Well, this is a switch," the hat said. It sounded rather amused by the prospect. "But I do believe you're right. Gryffindor isn't the right house for you, young one. You're bright, of course, but I see a lot of ambition here; plenty of cunning, imagination, and a desire to prove yourself. Oh, yes… You best be put in—SLYTHERIN!"

The hat had yelled the last word out loud to the rest of the hall. At first, the entire Hall had become silent. Even Professor Longbottom was looking aghast. Slowly, Albus stood from the stool and placed the hat back on it. As he made his way toward the Slytherin table, it had suddenly erupted into loud cheers and stomping when they'd realized it wasn't a hoax. The other three houses were still deathly silent, unable to believe that a Potter had been Sorted into the nest of vipers.

Albus didn't dare turn his head toward the Gryffindor table; afraid of the look he'd see on his brother's face. He sat beside Scorpius, and Scorpius patted his shoulder in a friendly manner. "Well done, Al!" he said. "For a moment there I was worried."

The Sorting continued. There were more Hufflepuffs Sorted. A few more Gryffindors, including Polly Roper, Henry Thomas, and Jack Turner. Another Slytherin ("Warrington, Sophie!"), and finally it was Rose's turn.

Al nervously watched as the hat was placed onto Rose's head. Malfoy was even looking slightly worried, because in all the years he'd heard, Weasleys were all put into Gryffindor; even Percy, who had ambition and a thirst for power during his days at Hogwarts.

Finally, the hat shouted "Ravenclaw!" to the Hall. Albus clapped and cheered, and so did Scorpius. He watched as Moon, Annesley, Carmichael, and Entwhistle applauded for her and then made room for her to sit (Annesley was even chanting: "We got a Weasley, we got a Weasley!"). Rose looked up, caught Albus staring, and waved frantically at him wearing a huge grin. Al smiled and waved back.

At long last, the Sorting was dwindling. "Whitby, Olivia" and "Young, Seth" were made Hufflepuffs. And last, but not least, twin Zabinis were sorted (Orion and Corvus); one went to Ravenclaw while the other was sorted into Slytherin. That twin came and sat right next to him and shook his hand. Then Zabini reached around Al and shook Malfoy's.

"Well done, Zabini," said Malfoy. "Good to see a friend of the family get into the right house."

"Yeah," said Orion Zabini. "I was shocked when my twin was put into Ravenclaw, but I guess his love of books and knowledge won over his cunning. Still, Ravenclaw's not bad; imagine having a sibling in Gryffindor? I'd die of embarrassment!"

Albus frowned into his empty, golden plate.

Malfoy noticed and patted Al's back. "Don't take it hard, Potter. He didn't know you've a brother in Gryffindor."

Orion Zabini whipped his head around when he heard that. "Oh, right; I forgot for a second there that you're the son of the famous Harry Potter, the notorious Gryffindor. James Potter is your older brother, right? Still, at least one of you was put in Slytherin. Any other Potters awaiting their Sorting days, or are you the youngest in your family?"

"I have a younger sister," Albus said. "But I'm not sure which house she'll go in. It could be Gryffindor, like my brother James. But she might surprise us."

"Talking of surprise," Scorpius gestured toward the Gryffindor table with his head. Albus slowly raised his eyes to look where he indicated, even though he was afraid to.

James was still looking gobsmacked by the news that his little brother really had been Sorted into Slytherin. His friend, Kevin Mars, was waving a hand in front of his face to get his attention. After a few waves, James snapped out of it and looked over at his friend. Mars said something to him, but James didn't respond; he only stared down at his plate for a few seconds before lifting his eyes.

The Potters' gazes locked from across the room. Albus tried to give his brother a friendly smile and waved nervously. James scowled and turned away to speak to his other friend, Gareth Jupitus, on the other side of him.

It felt like his own brother had just stuck a knife into his chest and yanked his heart out.

TBC


	2. The Daring Snake and the Despicable Lion

Albus Potter and the Cunning Plan

Chapter two

Author: lunadeath02

Pairing(s): Albus/Scorpius (will become), other minor ones (including Harry/Ginny, loosely, and Draco/Astoria)

Rating: PG-13 (may go up for later parts)

Warnings: language, some canon is ignored; OC's for story's sake; minor angst, about what you might find in the average HP book.

Notes: Post-epilogue; takes place right after the end of the epilogue when Albus boarded the Hogwarts Express.

See if you can spot the similarities, and differences, between the names of James and Al's friends. (As well as Rose's friends…)

Spoilers: All seven books

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and its characters belong to JK Rowling and Warner Brothers, etc. But the original characters in here are mine. Don't use them without my permission.

.-.

**The Daring Snake and the Despicable Lion**

Al enjoyed the Sorting feast well enough, but the dirty looks his brother kept shooting him left him with indigestion. He tried to meet Rose's eyes across the Hall, but she was too busy eating and talking with Moon. At the same time, he tried to keep his ears open to the conversation that was around him. Malfoy was explaining to a couple other students about his heritage, and he let slip (by 'accident' of course) just how rich his family was. From what Albus gleaned, Malfoy's father had mainly married for blood status and wealth. Scorpius's mother came from a rich, pureblooded family, and by the sound of it, it was an arranged marriage too.

There was no way Albus was going to chime in with his family history. Besides, he was pretty sure most at the table already knew about his family and who he was related to. If not, then some of the glares he was receiving were misguided.

When the Sorting feast was over, and the dessert disappeared from his plate, even though he hadn't touched much, Headmistress McGonagall stood to make a few announcements.

"I must ask that you all give me your undivided attentions," she said sternly, and the Hall fell silent. "The forest on the grounds is forbidden to all students, and Hogsmeade village is only allowed to third years and up, and who have signed permission forms from their parent or guardian.

"Also, our old caretaker, Mr Filch, will be retiring this year—" the Hall erupted into applause, which was mostly made up of the older students. McGonagall silenced them with a wave of her hand. "Now's not the time to celebrate, for that is when we're to have a special farewell party for Mr Filch before the Leaving Feast. During then you can give him good luck and your blessings for his retiring days. Right now you should still be aware of the things listed in Mr Filch's office that is off limits to all students, including most products that are sold at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Any student, young or old, caught with any of the banned objects will receive a month's worth of detentions, and possibly a lot of points will be taken from their respective houses.

"Now I advise you all to go to bed and get a good night's sleep. You'll all receive your schedules for your year at the beginning of breakfast from your Heads of House. Prefects will show you to your dormitories now; have a good night, and no wandering the school grounds after curfew!"

A Slytherin prefect—a girl with long, dark hair and heavy lidded eyes—stood up and led the first years down to the dungeons. She stopped them beside a stretch of bare, damp stone wall. Clearing her throat, she then said in a haughty, alto voice: "Basilisk fang."

A stone door that had been concealed in the wall slid open. The prefect marched in, beckoning the first years to follow. Albus led the way, with Scorpius right behind him. The first years stopped beside the fireplace, in which a roaring fire was crackling under an elaborately carved mantelpiece, facing the prefect.

Albus was in awe of the Slytherin common room and its decor: round, green-ish lamps hung on chains, giving the room an eerie but calm glow. The common room was long and clearly located underground by the looks of things; there was a large, glass window showing murky green water, which was, as Albus suddenly understood, the view from beneath the lake. He could see different kinds of fish and magical creatures swimming past, including one curious mermaid that paused and peered inside, watching them. The water shone almost as brightly as the lamps through the glass, but not as bright as the fire in the hearth, and not as warm.

The walls and ceiling were made of rough stone, with one wall looking to have been covered completely of moss and vines. Albus had the itch to examine it, but knew it had to wait until tomorrow. Standing in front of the fire were a few high-backed chairs and a comfortable, dark-colored divan was located off to the side. Albus leaned against one of the chairs, wanting to show he was more at ease with things than he really was; in reality his heart was going a mile a minute; not from nervousness, but excitement. As the prefect talked Al noticed a long, wooden table on the other side of the room, nearly opposite of the window and mossy wall; there were six cozy-looking seats around it, and on the table were tall, dark purple tapering candles that were lit with soft light, and a couple inkwells and some dark-colored quills. He wondered if they were there for anyone to use.

"Welcome to the Slytherin common room," the prefect was saying. "The large, wooden door to the left of me," she gestured, "leads to the girl's dormitories; on the right is the boys'. The latter is just a long hallway leading to doors that are marked by year. The girls' dorm goes up a few stone steps before leveling off to their hallway of dorm rooms. Boys are not permitted to visit the girl's rooms unless specifically invited, and only then can he enter their dorm unless given permission. That way, girls are protected from unwanted visits from boys in the middle of the night. If any boy tries it without permission, either the stairs will trip him up, or he will get jinxed upon entering a room without the occupants' consent.

"Prefects and the Head boy and girl are exempt from this, because of their status. Although, if a prefect or the Head boy were to use their privileges to cause unwanted problems… say, get a girl up the duff… their status is then revoked and they'll be either expelled or have to pay a heavy fine, depending on the headmistress and Heads of Houses, as well as the students' parents and their decisions.

"If anyone has any further questions, ask a prefect, our Head of House—which is Professor Lorcan d'Eath—or the Headmistress. Your things have already been brought up for you, and your animals already taken care of. Breakfast starts at seven, which lasts for two hours, but you're welcome to be there sooner. Try not to be extremely late or you might not get your class schedule before your first class starts, and you may become tardy on your first day. If no one has any questions, then I'll bid you all a good night."

Making their way toward their dormitories, Albus and Scorpius in the lead, the first year boys whisper excitedly to one another. Al wasn't sure if he was tired enough to sleep yet, but by the look on Malfoy's face, and how big he yawned, he might be the only one.

"I can't wait to start learning as much as possible," said Nott. "Father and Mother are anxious to hear from me, and to know how my first week went. I want to tell them that I've been doing well, so I hope none of you will do anything foolish to get us in trouble, or lose us points." At this, Nott glanced at Albus.

The mention of writing reminded Al that he didn't want James to write home and tell their parents about which house he'd been Sorted into. He couldn't do anything about it tonight (and hopefully James was too sated and sleepy to do much writing right now after that big feast), so he'll just have to remember to pay James a visit during breakfast. He had to tell Rose too, which he was sure he'd have more luck with than James.

The very last door, marked "1st Years", was on their left. Albus had fallen back during his musing so that now Scorpius had the lead. He opened the dormitory door and everyone tailed behind him.

The room looked almost like a miniature common room, but with beds around the walls instead of chairs, sofas, and tables. Their trunks, baring their initials, stood at the bottom of the beds. Albus's bed was next to the only window in the room, which bathed his bed in soft, green underwater light. The sheets themselves were a silky green, with a green and silver quilt folded at the foot of the bed. There were four green feather pillows at the head, and a personal nightstand for each of their beds. On each nightstand was a candlestick in its own silver candleholder, its flame small but somehow magically brighter than the stove located in the middle of the room.

The dungeons could get cold, Albus knew, but the fire going in the dormitory was anything but. The bed hangings and curtains and carpet were all green with silver trim. There was even a decoratively carved snake on the flat part of the footboard in the shape of an 'S'. When Albus scrutinized the bed sheets more carefully he saw a small, S-shaped snake on the corners of them.

His roommates quickly got into their pajamas and crawled in their respective beds. Scorpius was doing the same, but not as quickly. Albus was too busy staring out the watery window over his bed to pay them any mind.

"Aren't you tired?" Scorpius asked. He was just getting comfortable in his bed, sighing at the comfort and warmth of it.

Albus shrugged one shoulder after glancing at him. He was sure his body was tired, but his mind wouldn't shut up. He had thoughts of his brother and cousin, of how he was to approach them tomorrow, of what he was to say in his letter to his parents to skirt the issue of his Sorting; he thought of what his classes will be like, the teachers, the possibility of getting on the Quidditch team next year if he decided to tryout, and of how he'll study and prepare for tests and quizzes. He even thought about the grounds of Hogwarts, how he'd like to explore it all, and of the many wonders of the school he was sure he'll discover.

After a few minutes, Al realized he was the only one still standing in the room, his candle the only one aglow in the shadowy dormitory. Slowly, he got ready for bed, as someone's snores echoed throughout the room. As he climbed under the warm sheets, he heard one of his dorm mates grumble about the snorer, fluffing his pillow in anger. Albus could relate; his own brother snored like a blow horn and could be heard across the hallway of their house if he was particularly loud.

Al sat there in bed, covers around his lower half, knees up, as he stared out the window and into the watery world. Once in a while a sea creature would swim by, but not slow down to look through the glass. Most of the water was too murky to see much, but from what Al could see fascinated him. He wondered if he'd see any mermaids again, or maybe even the giant squid he'd heard about.

"For Salazar's sake!" shouted one of his dorm mates, startling Al out of his thoughts. "Will someone please shut Goyle up? Stuff some feathers up his nose or something."

Scorpius snorted and rolled over, his silhouetted form all Albus could make out across from him. Then Scorpius commanded: "Vince, roll over, you're snoring."

Vincent Goyle then gave a loud grunt, grumbled something in his sleep, and rolled over. The dorm became blissfully silent.

"Thanks, Malfoy."

"You're welcome, Zabini."

It was a half hour later when Albus finally laid down. It took him no time at all to fall into a restful sleep.

Albus and Scorpius were one of the first to wake up the next day, sometime before seven o'clock.

There was a full-length mirror propped against the only wall in the dorm that had no bed. Albus used it to make sure his tie was on straight and that his hair wasn't too messy. There were bathrooms for each year, and the boys had taken turns using it. Malfoy took the longest after Zabini, but after Albus had pounded on the door a few times and told Malfoy that they'll all be late for breakfast if he didn't hurry, Al had got to wash quickly before he dressed.

Staring into the mirror, it was odd to see himself donning the Slytherin tie and robes; where he'd imagined he'd see red and gold, there was green and silver. Where the gold lion emblem would have been on his robes, there was a silver snake on a green background. When he tried to fix his hair, he noted how his robes matched his eyes, but didn't want to think much of it. They were his dad's eyes, and he secretly admired them as he pretended to inspect his eyelashes; he was sure he'd felt something stuck in them, but couldn't see anything. He went back to fixing his hair; he didn't want it to lie too flat on his forehead.

"Looking good, love," said the mirror, and then wolf whistled. Albus blushed but he was pleased.

Thanks to Malfoy and Zabini, of course, they had to run in order to make it to breakfast by eight o'clock. None of them wanted to miss getting their class schedules. Goyle was the only one that didn't shower that morning, lumbering out of the dorm after Albus had went into their bathroom. They could tell that Goyle hadn't washed up the night before either. Or even the day before that. It was even possible he hadn't bathed in over a week.

"I think I'll stick close to you, Potter," said Zabini to Al's left, with a sour look on his face. "My nose might fall off if I get too close to Goyle again."

"If he doesn't bathe tonight, I'll make him," Malfoy announced, walking on Al's right. "I don't think it would be beneficial if my nose hairs shriveled up and died before we have Potions class."

"The potions will probably smell better than Goyle," Albus pointed out, causing Malfoy, Zabini, and Nott to laugh, the latter laughing the loudest and by far the most annoyingly.

Albus didn't know it until that moment, but he'd had the majority of the first year boys around him, Malfoy and Zabini flanking him. He wasn't sure what to make of it. Al was, however, grateful none of the boys seemed to hate him because he was a Potter. The fact that he was a Slytherin seemed to be enough for the other eleven-year-olds. (That and maybe because Malfoy being his friend had something to do with it, but he wasn't sure.)

"Is this the right way to the Great Hall?" Al asked. He didn't know where everything was just yet.

"I'm sure it is," said Malfoy. "It's not too hard to find from the dungeons."

"Or the kitchens," said Hawk Bletchley from behind them. "Which I think is near the Hufflepuff dormitory."

"And how do you know where the Hufflepuffs are located, Bletchley?" Zabini asked.

Bletchley looked embarrassed, head bowed. He shrugged his shoulders in answer to Zabini's question. Zabini continued to eye him suspiciously for the rest of the way to the Great Hall.

They finally found the Great Hall a minute later, and took their spots at the Slytherin table. Almost right away when Albus sat he noticed Rose at the Ravenclaw table, pouring some sugar over her porridge while reading a parchment next to her bowl. She actually looked rather prim in her Ravenclaw robes and tie. He jumped up from his spot and quickly made his way over.

"Oi, where are you going, Potter?" Zabini exclaimed, but Albus ignored him.

"Rose!" Al said with a grin. "Hey, I've wanted to speak to you." Other Ravenclaws looked up from their breakfast or textbooks, glared, and then went back to what they were doing. One Ravenclaw boy (Emmett Annesley, if he remembered correctly) a few seats down continued to stare at him, but Al paid him no mind.

"Hey, Al," Rose said with a cheery smile. She was always more of a morning person than he was, and he had a feeling she'd been up way before him. "Good morning! Would you like to join me at the Ravenclaw table? I just got my class schedule from my Head of House, Professor Flitwick. Did you get yours yet? I think we have Herbology together… Professor Longbottom is the one that teaches it; did you know he's the Head of Gryffindor House too? I'm sure he'll be fair to the other Houses, but I'm worried about the Potions master, Professor d'Eath. I hear he's part vampire. Actually, I'm quite fascinated by it; I have loads of questions to ask what the differences are between fully-fledged vampires and half ones. Do you think-?"

"Rose," Albus quickly interrupted, "I can't stay long; I need to get back to my own table. I just wanted to ask you not to tell your parents or mine, or any of our relatives actually, about which house I've been Sorted into. I want to surprise them on holiday break."

Rose blinked. "Oh. Well, I won't be writing to them until tonight, that way I can tell them how my first day went and everything. But I'll be sure not to say a word about your Sorting." Suddenly she looked thoughtful. "Now that you mention it, maybe I won't tell them mine either. If they ask in a reply, I'll just tell them that I want it to be a surprise for the hols. I'm sure Mum will guess, though; she's rather brilliant at figuring things out. No doubt she'll reckon that since I'm not upfront on which house I was sorted into then she'll know it wasn't Gryffindor, and by deducing all she knows about me, she'll come to the conclusion that I was put in Ravenclaw. I don't know if she'll tell Dad, though. Although, it would be just like him to overlook the obvious. Uncle Harry does sometimes, too…"

"All right, all right," Albus interrupted before she went on; he might miss breakfast completely. "Just remember not to say anything, and if you see James tell him not to say anything either. I have to go back to my table now so I can finish eating, and then get my schedule."

"Okay, I'll see you later in Herbology then. Let's meet up sometime this week in the library to study. You can bring Malfoy and whoever else you've befriended too, if you like. I might be with Delia and Ariel, who are still in our common room, preparing for the day. The three of us have become fast friends."

"That's good, Rose. I'm pretty good friends with Scorpius and Orion Zabini so far." The second he'd said this, the other Zabini, Corvus, came and sat down next to Emmett Annesley. Rose smiled and waved at him. Corvus waved back.

"Hey, Zabini," Albus said, mentally thinking how weird it was, but didn't say it.

"Potter," Corvus Zabini said. He glanced at the Slytherin table, nodded his hello at his twin, and then began eating. Moments after that, the other Ravenclaws were filing in and sitting down, as were other Slytherins and then a few more Hufflepuffs as well. There weren't many Gryffindors at their table yet, but Al wasn't surprised; James wasn't much of a morning person. He was even worse than Albus was on the weekends.

"Mr Potter," said a smooth, baritone voice from behind him. Albus turned and came face to face with a tall man who had pale, almost white, skin, sharp cheekbones, and dark-slicked hair. He wore robes with a high, upturned collar and looked to be wearing bright red lipstick, the edges of his lips painted black. His eyes looked almost cold and otherworldly, and at that moment Albus realized whom he was facing.

"Hello, er, I mean good morning, sir."

"You're supposed to be eating at the Slytherin table with your fellow Slytherins, Mr Potter," Professor d'Eath said. "Here," he added abruptly, handing Albus a piece of parchment similar to the one Rose had just been perusing. "Your class schedule. Now go eat something before your first class, you'll need your strength."

"Yes, sir," Al said. "I'm really sorry, sir—I was just saying good morning to my cousin Rose."

"That's all well and good, Mr Potter, but do it before breakfast next time," his Head of House said. Then he turned and left to distribute other Slytherins their schedules, his long cloak billowing behind him.

"Well, at least you didn't get into any major trouble," said Rose. "Although, I don't see what's so wrong with visiting others from different Houses."

"He's really grumpy in the mornings," Annesley said as if by explanation. "My sister, Angel, had his class in the mornings once. He really is a right crab when the sun is up. They say it's because he's part vampire, as he's a lot nicer during the evenings. Don't know when he sleeps, though. Some say he never does."

Albus filed that bit of news away for later. "Well, I better go have breakfast. See you later, Rose."

"Bye, Al!"

When Albus sat back down at his table, wedged between Scorpius and Orion, he had more of a smile on his face than when he first woke up. He put his schedule into his bag, which he'd placed under the table between his feet, and began inhaling as much food as he could.

"We've got Double Herbology first thing on Mondays with the Ravenclaws—blimey, three days a week we have it," Malfoy was saying in between bites of food. "Transfigurations after that, before lunchtime. And then at midnight we have Astronomy. Tuesdays we've got Charms before lunch then Defense Against the Dark Arts, and History of Magic on Wednesdays..." Al tuned him out for a while as he ate, until he heard him end with: "Then for Friday—oh, wonderful—Double Potions with the Gryffindors."

"What about flying lessons?" Nott asked. "Isn't that Thursday?"

"Yes, that's after Defense Against the Dark Arts. I think. Or is it before?"

Albus reached down to take out his own schedule to check. "It's before, see? It says '10 a.m.'"

"Right, of course. The 'a' looked like a funny little 'p' to me."

"Who had a funny, little pee?" asked a third year Slytherin as he sat down. Another one that looked just like the first sat on his twin's other side. They both started to pile food on their plates, mostly with bacon and sausages.

"No one did, Proudfoot," Nott said. He glanced around the other side of Proudfoot's twin. "Where's my brother?"

"Still in the shower," said Proudfoot number two.

"Or he's out by now and staring at his reflection in the mirror," said the first Proudfoot.

Nott rolled his eyes.

Albus watched the proceedings while trying to keep eating. When the odd conversation was over with, for now, he turned his head toward Malfoy for an explanation. When Malfoy just shrugged his shoulders, Al looked to Nott.

"Oh, right. You don't know these two. Potter, meet Mischief and Mayhem, as they like to call themselves, but better known as the Proudfoot twins. They're friends of my older brother Algernon."

"We're also known as Henricus and Houseley, but don't listen to rumors," the first Proudfoot said. "We're third years, and the Beaters for our Quidditch team."

"We're hoping for some new blood this year," said the second twin (Al couldn't tell them apart yet). "It's too bad that first years are still not allowed."

"If you were to do as your old man have done in his first year, Potter, then we might get ourselves a decent Seeker."

"If not, we're forever doomed to have Owain Thickey on our team."

"We want to get rid of him, you see, but we're not having much luck." The first twin shook his head sadly. "We even put a fake, edible Dark Mark on his arm and tried to turn him in to Professor d'Eath. Didn't work out; d'Eath is able to detect anything containing Dark Magic, and since he couldn't sense anything about the mark we put on Thickey's arm—"

"We think it has to do with him being half vampire."

"And since then, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes products have been banned from Hogwarts, but that hasn't stopped people from buying stuff via owl."

"Anyroad, getting back to the more serious topic at hand: Gryffindor beat us last year. But that's because they narrowly beat Ravenclaw and shot up to first place. Didn't we, Henry?"

"Indeed, House. I'm sure you know their Chaser, though, Potter?" Henricus said. "You do share a mother and father, I believe."

"Yeah," said Albus. "I know." James had been on the Gryffindor Quidditch team since last year, and he was nearly allowed on it for his first year, but the Gryffindor team already had their best members picked and James missed out. Albus wasn't sure if he was good enough to be on the Slytherin team, though.

"Yeah, James Potter is a natural on the broom, unfortunately," said Henricus. "So with you being a Slytherin, we're hoping you're just as good, whether it'd be as Seeker or Chaser, we don't care; we need you."

"Maybe Professor d'Eath could pull a few strings," Houseley thought aloud. "It never hurts to ask. Or bribe."

"But then there's Headmistress McGonagall," said his twin. "She favors Gryffindor, and would never allow bribery of any sort."

"Bugger, I forgot about her."

"But she likes the Potter family," Zabini chimed in with. "Maybe she'll make an exception."

The twins looked at each other and then grinned.

"It's worth a shot," they said together.

Albus had been told stories about his Uncle George and his dearly departed twin brother Fred. They had also been Beaters for their Quidditch team at Hogwarts, and they caused as much mischief and mayhem they could but never went overboard to get expelled, until that faithful day when they left school thanks to Deloris Umbridge. The antics of Henricus and Houseley made Al wonder if they're like the Weasley twins, or if they're their own brand of discord.

Before Albus could decide whether it was in his best interest to befriend the Proudfoot twins, he heard a familiar laugh and looked up: it was his brother; he was finally coming in for breakfast. Orbiting close around James was his two friends, Mars and Jupitus.

Albus shot up from his seat and made his way over just as Professor Longbottom did from the other side of the Hall. Albus slowed up and watched closely as Longbottom gave James and his friends their schedules before returning to the head table. Albus took his chance and sprinted the last few feet so that he was now standing between the Gryffindor table and James.

"What do you want, _Asp_?" James said crisply. He'd never been this unfriendly toward Albus before; maybe sometimes annoying or irritating, but never really rude.

"Sounds like you forgot I'm your brother," Albus retorted. "Which you know you can't deny, else Dad will have words with you. Anyway, I need to talk to you, alone."

"Not until I eat," James said. "You know how I get when I don't get my breakfast first thing." He tried to walk around Albus, but Albus stepped to the side to block him.

"It'll only take a minute."

"Hey, didn't you hear what James said?" Gareth Jupitus said. "He wants to eat, so go away."

Jupitus pushed Albus out of the way to allow James to walk by, but Al followed his brother to the table before he could get swallowed up by his Gryffindor friends and Al wouldn't get another chance to talk to him until tonight; by then it might be too late.

"Okay, fine, I'll talk to you here, quietly," Albus said. Once James sat down, Jupitus and Mars bordering him, and other Gryffindors at the table surrounding them as if they were James' sanctified apostles, some with looks of adoration on their faces, as if the sun shone out of his brother's arse. "I need you to do me a favour. Rose is in on it, too," he added. "In case you were wondering."

Mentioning Rose got James' attention. He looked over his shoulder at his little brother and said, "All right, what do you want?"

Albus leaned in so that he was almost whispering into James' ear. "I don't want you telling Mum or Dad about my Sorting. Not even our aunts or uncles or cousins… no one, all right? I want it to be a surprise."

James laughed. "Blimey, it sure would be a surprise! Mum and Dad thought that all three of us kids would get in Gryffindor. Imagine the look on Mum's face when she finds out you were put in the snake's pit!" James began shoveling food into his mouth, still grinning with mirth.

"Yes, it'll be a laugh, right?" Albus said, hoping he found out how to make James stay silent on the matter. "Rose isn't saying anything to her parents either about her Sorting, let alone mine, even though she figures Aunt Hermione will have figured it out."

"Yeah, Rose was a dead-ringer for Ravenclaw. Good on her. And now that I think of it," James paused in his eating to look up over his shoulder at Al again, "you've always been more of a Slytherin than the rest of our family; it's a wonder you haven't been speaking in parseltongue yet."

Albus knew he should be insulted, but he wasn't. He forced himself to smile instead of glare. "You won't say anything, then?"

"I won't say anything," James promised. "Of course, you'll probably have to keep your school robes and tie on to show which house you were Sorted into, instead of changing back into the Muggle clothes on the train. Otherwise, how would they know what house you're in unless you say something?"

"True," Al said. "That means we should all keep our robes on when we get off the train at King's Cross."

"But won't there be Muggles there to see?" asked a third year Gryffindor.

"Muggles don't see anything, do they?" said Mars. "Even if it's staring 'em right in the face. Anyway, they can always put their robes away before going through the invisible barrier between platforms nine and ten."

"Yes, but still—" the girl protested.

"Oh, lighten up, Gwen!" said Jupitus, surprisingly—or maybe not so surprisingly—going along with the idea once James agreed to it. "It's just a bit of a laugh; let the Potters have their fun. A few Hogwarts robes ain't gonna hurt no one."

"Your grammar is atrocious," Gwen said, and that seemed to be her last complaint for the rest of the conversation.

After shoveling in more food, James agreed to Albus's plan. Al went back to the Slytherin table with a spring in his step. He'd been worried about what James might do or say to him when asking him to keep the Sorting a secret, and now he could relax and focus on his classes. The Hols were months away.

Al and Scorpius's first day of classes went well enough. Albus got to greet Professor Longbottom again in Greenhouse One before they began their first lesson, and it was a big relief Neville didn't mind that Albus was in Slytherin (most likely thanks to who his dad was). Then he and the rest of the first year Slytherins had to run to make it on time for their first Transfigurations class. Professor Hookum was almost as strict as McGonagall had been, but smiled more (which was no wonder, because she was the new Head of Hufflepuff House). She was very understandable about the class just making it on time, knowing that it was their first day of school here at Hogwarts and that the greenhouses were a little ways away (and they had small legs to carry them all that way). All they had for their first lesson was to try turning a match into a needle. The only one to get close to accomplishing this was Scorpius. Al felt somewhat jealous and vowed to work hard on their homework so that he won't be made a fool next time.

By the time class was over with, it was almost lunchtime. They had a bit of time to go down to their dormitories and put away their bags, so they didn't have to lug them around. Albus, Scorpius, Orion Zabini, Hawk Bletchley, and Hydrus Nott went down together. They hadn't a clue where Goyle was. On the way down, they saw the first year girls making their way to the Slytherin common room entrance as well, with Caroline Cornfoot leading them.

When they were close enough, they could hear the tail end of their conversation.

"Relax, Baddock, you'll be fine," one of the plainer girls was saying. "Our own Head of House won't harm us."

"But he's—" Starla Baddock took a huge gulp of air, as if she were hyperventilating. "He's half _vampire_!"

"Only half," said another girl, whom Al remembered was called Sophie.

"I'd like it better if he were all wizard," Starla whimpered.

They reached the bare stretch of wall together, and as they did some of the girls in front of Al realized they were behind them. Two girls faced forward again after glancing back, cheeks blazing red. One girl, however, gave Albus a glare before sneering and whispering something to her friend.

Her friend turned and looked at Al. "Oh, hello, Potter. I see you're still alive and well."

Albus raised an eyebrow at her. "What made you think otherwise?"

The girl giggled. "You're cute," she said, and two other girls joined her in the tittering.

Albus forced himself not to blush. Scorpius gave the girl a mild glare as warning, but she wasn't paying attention.

"Oh, stop teasing the poor boy," Caroline Cornfoot said. "He's probably not used to being around Slytherin girls." She then turned to face the wall entrance and said, "Basilisk fang." The wall opened to admit the two groups of Slytherin first years.

"I say it's about time he learned, don't you, Carol?" the girl said as she slowed down in order to be more in-step with Albus. "My name's Terra," she said the moment she turned her head sideways to look at his face. "Terra Montague."

"Nice to meet you, Terra," Al said politely.

Terra beamed at him. Caroline Cornfoot and a couple other girls sighed and rolled their eyes. Starla, who was still looking rattled about the fact that their Head of House was part vampire, took a seat by the roaring fire, folding her legs under her. She gazed into the flames with an almost vacant stare. Albus felt a bit sorry for her. Professor d'Eath could be a bit spooky, he agreed, but was pretty sure they had nothing to fear from the half-vampire. The Headmistress wouldn't have hired him otherwise, surely.

Al quickly went into the boys' dorm to drop off his book bag, and then hesitated about leaving right away. Terra could still be in the common room waiting for him. He had a weird feeling that she'd been trying not to latch herself onto him while they were walking. It wasn't that Terra was bad looking or anything; he was just not too comfortable around girls yet. He wondered if he'd ever get used to girls.

He was finally dragged out of the dorm by Scorpius and Orion, telling him that he was being silly and that he shouldn't be afraid of some girl. Albus raced across the common room, almost putting out several candles along the way, to get to the door. He heard a faint "Potter, wait!" near the fireplace, but ignored it and kept running. As he got halfway down the hall, Albus slowed to a walk, and Scorpius and Orion caught up, snickering.

"Oh shut up," Al growled.

"Oh man," Orion wheezed. "You already have an admirer! This is too rich—"

"I said, shut up, Zabini," Albus warned with another snarl. He must not look as threatening as he thought, because Zabini only laughed harder.

"You're bound to get a few devoted fans," Scorpius said, forcefully stopping his laughter. "It was inevitable. You're Harry Potter's son, after all, and nearly an exact copy to boot."

"You look like your father too, Malfoy," Albus sneered. "Does that mean you'll turn out the same as him? Most likely not, so I had hoped you'd understand how I felt!"

He jogged to get away from his ungrateful friends, but stopped short before the stairs that led up to the Great Hall, past the Potions classroom. There were three tall Gryffindors (and Al could tell they're Gryffindor even with their backs turned, because they were wearing their scarves) surrounding a girl whom was on the floor sobbing. The girl had dirty blonde hair and was wearing a yellow and black scarf and tie. Hufflepuff.

"What are you doing down here, Creampuff?" the middle boy was saying. "Come to make nice with the snakes? Maybe flirt a bit with a certain infamous first year?"

"Go away," the girl sobbed. "Leave me alone! I only took a wrong turn—"

"Likely story," said another boy with dark hair. "No one is that stupid to mistake the dungeons for the kitchens. Come on, what are you doing down here?"

"That's what I'd like to know," Albus said from behind them.

The three Gryffindors (third or fourth years, by the looks of it) turned at the sound of Al's voice. Albus felt irritated by the sight of them, and a sudden boldness overcame him. The way the scene looked reminded him too much of how his brother and his brother's friends used to tease him back when James was in first year and had brought his friends over for Christmas and Easter breaks. Actually, it was about around that time when Al knew that he would be nothing like James.

"Oh, it's just you, Potter," the middle boy said, laughing. "For a second there I thought we were in trouble."

"How do you reckon?" Scorpius said with a sneer. "Al sounds nothing like a teacher. You're really not that bright, are you?"

The Gryffindor's face went red, which reminded Al of Uncle Ron whenever he'd get upset.

"Go away, Malfoy," the red-faced Gryffindor said. "This doesn't concern you."

"Maybe not," said Al. "But I think you have a lot of explaining to do—like why you're picking on a poor first year that is obviously just lost. Not all first years understand where everything is right away, you know, so you should be more considerate."

"Yeah," Scorpius said, acting a lot braver, Al knew, than he normally would have. "Besides, aren't Gryffindors supposed to be chivalrous and heroic and all that? Why are you making Hufflepuff girls cry?"

"For the last time, Malfoy—" the Gryffindor started. Out of the corner of his eye, Albus noticed the sobbing girl trying to crawl away to safety. His eyes must have stayed too long on her, because the Gryffindor noticed and turned to see the girl trying to make a getaway. "OI, get back here!"

The girl whined and quickly got to her feet to make a break for it. When the Gryffindor pulled out his wand, Albus had had enough. He took out his own wand—dragon heartstring, ten and a half inches, hawthorn, pliable—and did the first spell that came to mind:

"Locomotor Mortis!"

The Gryffindor's legs locked up and he fell to the floor. The other two Gryffindors took out their wands and tried to curse him in return. Albus got out of the way just in time, a red jet of light streaking past his ear, and then Zabini had cast some curse that he'd never heard of before, but it didn't do much; it had only knocked the wind out of the other Gryffindor.

"FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!" chanted a sudden, cackling voice. Albus looked up just as he dodged another curse aimed at his head and saw the Hogwarts Poltergeist, Peeves, zooming above them, a delighted look on his face. "Ickle firsties versus the third-ies! Gryffindor versus Slytherin reenactment of the war! Fight, fight, FIGHT!" Then Peeves started to lob pieces of chalk and some hard sweets at their heads.

"Peeves, get out of it!" cried one of the third Gryffindor boys. The first, taller boy was still struggling against the curse Al put on him. Peeves swooped around them, knocked down Scorpius and then one of the Gryffindors in his glee. Things would have continued to progress in this manner if Professor d'Eath hadn't come out of the Potions classroom at that moment.

"What's going on here?" the professor bellowed.

Surprisingly, at least to Al it was, Peeves high-tailed it, as if the Bloody Baron himself was yelling. All activity in the hall stopped as Professor d'Eath surveyed the scene. Suddenly everyone began talking at once: the Gryffindors were trying to get a word in over the explanations Al and Scorpius were trying to give.

"They were picking on a Hufflepuff first year, sir—"

"The girl was obviously sneaking around with the intent—"

"—she wasn't doing any harm, she was just lost!"

"…She didn't look lost to me—"

"Silence!" d'Eath shouted. "Fighting and wand-play in the halls is forbidden to all students. I want all of you to see me in my office after lunch." He then waved his oddly shaped wand to undo the leg-locker curse on the tall Gryffindor. "Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," they intoned.

"And ten points will be taken from Gryffindor—don't look at me like that, Mr McLaggen. You're lucky I don't give you a week's worth of detentions. As it is, I don't have the time to bother with it. Mr Long, I expected better of you. And you as well, Mr McDonald. Now go before I change my mind and give you detention for the rest of the school year!"

After giving Al and his friends nasty looks, the Gryffindors did as they were told and went toward the stairs leading to the Great Hall. Albus and the rest of his dorm mates lagged behind.

"What did those Gryffindors think the Hufflepuff girl was doing that was so suspicious anyway?" Zabini whispered.

"I dunno," Al said. "I wonder if there's something going on that we don't know."

"I don't care what's going on," said Scorpius. "I'm just glad we didn't get detention on our first day of school."

After lunch, inside Professor d'Eath's office, Albus, Scorpius and Orion were waiting for the others to arrive. Albus hoped that all his Head of House would do was speak to them about what had transpired in the hall. He didn't want the professor writing to his family, because that would ruin the surprise he had planned.

He could just see his dad now, getting a strange owl from Hogwarts, and then after reading about what mischief Al had got up to—and already on his first day of school at that—he'd see the signature of the professor in charge of Slytherin House and then Al would be getting owls demanding why he wasn't in Gryffindor, especially after that little talk they had before he got on the train. Or worse, getting a Howler from both parents, announcing to the entire school about how ashamed they were to have a son put in Slytherin and that they'd want nothing to do with him ever again. Of course, if that were so, then Al would just have to move in with Scorpius.

And wouldn't that be a fun conversation with Scorpius's father? _Why hello, Mr Malfoy. Guess what? You've got two sons now! Aren't you pleased as pink-fizzy punch?_

Yeah, that would go over real well.

Before Al could think up other horrible things that could happen, and what his parents might think, Professor d'Eath strode into the office. In the dimly lit room, their Head of House looked even more sinister and scary. It didn't make matters any better that there were jars of pickled objects lining a couple walls in the professor's office, and that there was no fire burning in the hearth so that it was much colder than any other place in the dungeons. Albus huddled under his robes, sticking his hands under his armpits to keep them warm; why hadn't he put on a scarf and his winter cloak? Oh yeah, because he'd only planned on joining the rest of the school for lunch, which was located in a warm Great Hall, and hadn't considered he'd be stuck in his Head of House's freezing office afterward.

Professor d'Eath sat at his desk, steepling his fingers; his eerie gaze moved from one student to the next, and Albus wasn't sure if he was waiting for one of them to speak first, or if he were debating on whether any of them would make a good late night snack. Albus tried not to think much on that; he just wanted their talk to finish so he could go warm himself by the common room fire.

When the professor spoke at last, his smooth, booming voice made Albus jump.

"I don't know if I'm surprised or not," d'Eath began. "Almost five minutes after receiving detention from me, Mr McLaggen, you go out of your way to lose your house points, and all because you thought Miss Summerby was up to something. Care to explain what was going on through that tiny mind of yours, or are we to assume that you're going through a difficult period in your life that makes you act out?"

McLaggen didn't speak, his eyes staying firmly in his lap. Albus watched to see if there was any remorse at all in his face, but so far only saw annoyance and anger there. Al didn't know what to think; he'd thought Gryffindors knew the difference between right and wrong. Then again, he had to remind himself that not everyone was brought up in the same manner either. Albus had been lucky to be born into a loving, caring family. He wasn't stupid, of course; he knew that sometimes a person's character molded them too (look at his dad and what he had to put up with for a family growing up). Still, Al knew that sometimes you couldn't take things at face value, and you couldn't judge someone's total character by a first meeting. Long story short, Albus wasn't going to suddenly hate McLaggen's guts just because of this one instance; perhaps McLaggen was just having a bad day.

The look on Scorpius' face, however, told Albus that he wasn't going to forget it. Al vowed to talk to him later, and make sure that nothing would escalate. If they were to get into trouble now, or in the near future, it would ruin all of Al's plans.

"Well, since you're refusing to speak up for your actions," Professor d'Eath said, "then I have no choice but to give you another detention and take off ten more points from Gryffindor. Now what say you?"

"That's not fair," McLaggen finally said, voice rough and eyes blazing. "You don't understand—"

"Exactly," d'Eath growled. He stood from his chair and leaned over his desk, hands splayed. It was then that Al noticed a glass jar filled with blood lollies on one corner of the desk; he wondered if Professor d'Eath gave them away to students he liked—or loathed. "I don't understand, Mr McLaggen, because you won't tell me anything."

"I want to talk to my Head of House," McLaggen argued. "Not you."

McDonald and Long goggled at their friend, shocked by his boldness to speak to a half vampire like that.

Professor d'Eath's nostrils flared and he raised his head as if he were testing the air around him. Then finally, after a small stare-down between the two, d'Eath sat back down and said, "All right, Mr McLaggen, you may speak with your Head of House… but I will speak to him first, _and_—" he quickly went on, because McLaggen opened his mouth to interrupt "—I will be present during your meeting with him."

"What? That's not—"

"Fair? No, I suppose it's not fair, from your point of view," the professor spoke slowly. "Then again, neither is trying to get Professor Longbottom to side with you and get you out of trouble. And if you argue with me about this, I'll take more points from Gryffindor. Is that understood, or must we continue with this charade until I've drained all the blood-red rubies from the Gryffindor hourglass?"

"No, sir," McLaggen grumbled, head bowed. His face was deathly pale.

"Good. Mr Long, Mr McDonald, you two have detention as well, but it'll be separate from your ringleader's. Now get out of here before I decide to give you all a month's worth of detentions instead."

The Gryffindors filed out quickly, huddled and shivering. Albus, Scorpius, and Orion stayed where they sat, awaiting their verdict.

"Well now," started Professor d'Eath. "What am I do to with you three?"

"Um, let us go so we can start on our homework?" Orion asked hopefully. Professor d'Eath's sharp gaze cut over to him, and Orion shrank back.

"Mr Potter," Professor d'Eath said carefully, bringing his eerie gaze onto him now. The professor folded his arms slowly over his chest, hands splayed on his biceps as if he were lying inside a coffin. "You struck the first blow. Care to explain?"

Albus gulped noisily. "Well, you see, sir… McLaggen was about to throw a hex or something at Miss… at the Hufflepuff girl, what's her name?"

"Her name happens to be Jane Summerby," Professor d'Eath said.

"Yes, her. Summerby was trying to escape their bullying, or so it looked to me, and McLaggen noticed and took out his wand. I didn't want him to hurt her, so I reacted on instinct."

"Hmm," Professor d'Eath said. He turned on his heel and walked around the room, circling the first years slowly as he thought. Orion and Scorpius shrank away when he got too close to them. "Reacted on instinct, you say."

"Yes, sir."

Professor d'Eath stopped and stood in front of them now, his back to his desk. "You, a Slytherin, just acted first before considering the consequences?"

Albus winced. He knew what his Head of House was saying. "Yes—yes, I did, sir."

"Hmm," his professor said again. When nothing more was said, Al looked up into d'Eath's face. He didn't see annoyance or hatred or anything negative in the half-vampire's expression like he'd expected; however, what he did see was a bit shocking. Not only was Professor d'Eath looking pensive, but also somewhat pleased.

"You're not giving us detention, sir?" Scorpius asked.

Professor d'Eath forced his gaze away from Albus to look at his other charge. "Indeed, I am not, Mr Malfoy. I'm not doing so just because you're in my house. I'm not giving any of you detention because none of you had done anything remotely wrong. I would like, however, that in future if you come across something like that again, to not get involved; just come find me, or a prefect."

"Yes, sir."

"Now go do your homework. I have plenty of work myself I must finish."

"Oh, that was lucky," Orion said as they settled down into a corner of the library with their book bags and homework. "I thought for sure we were in trouble."

"I thought he'd write to our families about it," Al said.

"Maybe he still will," Scorpius said, worried. "We never asked him if he was, and he never said anything—"

"Maybe I should go see him before we go back to our common room, just to be sure."

"But what if he's writing right now?" Scorpius said. "It'll be too late then."

"You're right," Albus said. "Maybe I should go now, just in case."

"Yeah, go ahead. We'll be here waiting for you."

Albus stood to leave, deciding to keep his bag and books there since he was coming back. As he left the library, Hydrus Nott was heading toward him.

"There you are," he said, winded. "I wondered… where are the others?"

"In the library," Al said shortly. "Sorry, got to go. I'll be back, though."

Albus raced to the dungeons, almost running into other students on his way there. As he neared Professor d'Eath's office, he saw the first year Hufflepuff, Jane Summerby, being ushered inside by him. Al slowed up, wanting to show more calmness than he felt, and to Al's surprise Professor d'Eath stayed by the entrance to his office, which was still partly open.

"Something you forgot to mention, Mr Potter?"

"Er, kind of, sir. Um, is this a bad time?"

"Not really. I thought you'd be busy with your homework, though."

"I am. Er, was. I just remembered to ask you something…" Al put on his best innocent expression.

"Very well, come in and have a seat. I'd just bumped into Miss Summerby when I went back to my classroom for something. She was still rather distraught, so I thought she'd like a cup of tea."

Albus went into the office when Professor d'Eath opened the door wider for him. Al immediately saw Summerby sitting in one of the chairs that had been occupied by Al and his friends, shivering. He couldn't tell whether it was from nerves or the cold. Albus took the chair he'd just vacated a few minutes ago. Professor d'Eath produced a teapot from somewhere and put it over a small fire where normally a beaker full of liquid would be. He tapped the teapot with his wand and it filled itself with water. Then he sat at his desk to survey the two students.

"How do you take your tea, Miss Summerby?" d'Eath asked. "Sugar, milk?"

"Just… a little milk," Summerby said softly, cheeks glowing. Albus had no idea why her face was so red.

"And you, Mr Potter?"

"Oh, um… sugar, thanks." Al glanced at the fireplace, hoping that the professor would take the hint, but d'Eath only looked away as he straightened out some papers on his desk. Al hoped that the professor wouldn't offer him a blood lolly to go with his tea.

"Now then, Miss Summerby, I understand that you went through a horrible ordeal, and I'd understand if you don't wish to talk about it, but sometimes it helps. Or, if you like, you could always go to your Head of House, Professor Hookum."

"Y-yes, sir. I'd rather do that."

"Of course," Professor d'Eath nodded. "I had a feeling you'd say that. Biscuit?" He held out a round tin filled with a variety of cookies and sweets.

"Thanks, sir," Summerby said, taking a chocolate digestive and immediately biting into it. "You're being very kind, sir, thank you."

"You're most welcome," said d'Eath. It was so odd seeing the small smile grace his lips. Professor d'Eath must not be as cold and aloof as Al first thought. "Now, Mr Potter, you had something you wanted to talk to me about? Or would you rather do so in private?"

"No, I can tell you in front of her," Al said. "I only wanted to ask that you not write to my parents and tell them about the incident. You see…" Al leaned forward a bit as if he were about to whisper a secret, but he didn't lower his voice too much as he said, "I want to keep my Sorting a secret from them."

Professor d'Eath raised a thin eyebrow. "That is most unusual for a student. Normally they can't wait to let their parents know what house they were sorted into."

"I know, sir, but you know who my parents are, right?"

"Indeed I do, Mr Potter. How can I not?" Professor d'Eath smirked.

"Well, then you know that my family were all in Gryffindor, and I don't want them to know yet that I was sorted into the house they grew up despising."

"I see…"

"I wish to surprise them for the Christmas hols, sir. So, I was hoping you wouldn't write to them about it… I'll let them know what happened in the hall myself, when I write them later this week."

Professor d'Eath studied Al, and it almost felt as if he were being x-rayed. Finally, his Head of House nodded and said, "Very well. As long as you tell them about the incident and not omit anything, then I won't write to your parents about it. But what about Mr Malfoy? Does he feel the same?"

"Er, I don't know. I'm sure it's fine with letting his parents know. Scorpius isn't keeping his sorting a secret from his family."

"All right. I shall acknowledge your request, Mr Potter." Professor d'Eath offered Al a biscuit right as the teapot whistled. "Ah, good. Tea's ready."

As Albus watched him make a cuppa for all three of them, both by hand and with his wand, he wondered if Professor d'Eath drank more than just tea.

TBC


	3. Not All Snakes are Created Equal

Albus Potter and the Cunning Plan

Chapter three

Author: lunadeath02

Pairing(s): Albus/Scorpius (will become), other minor ones (including Harry/Ginny, loosely, and Draco/Astoria)

Rating: PG-13 (might go up later for language and slight adult situations)

Warnings: slight language, some canon is ignored (sorry); OC's for story's sake; minor angst and violence, about what you might find in the average HP book.

Notes: Post-epilogue; takes place right after the end of the epilogue when Albus boarded the Hogwarts Express.

Spoilers: All seven books

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and its characters belong to JK Rowling and Warner Brothers, etc. But the original characters in here are mine. Don't use them without my permission.

.-.

**Not All Snakes are Created Equal**

After the brief talk with his Head of House, Albus had gone straight back to the library to actually start on his homework. Nott was there too, and when Al indicated that he was in his spot, pointing to his book bag beside the chair, Nott went pink and moved to the chair sitting opposite.

Albus, Scorpius, and Orion filled Nott in about what happened since he wouldn't shut up his begging. When they were finished, Nott had almost this awestruck look on his face as he stared at Al. Annoyed by it, but not wishing to be rude, Albus ignored him and tried to finish his homework.

They had a bit of time to themselves before their Astronomy class that night. When they returned to their common room, after they put away their bags in their dorm, they mostly stayed huddled by the fireplace. Scorpius had taken a book down with him and was now in one of the bigger chairs reading it. Orion and Nott were engaged in a game of wizard's chess. Hawk Bletchley was sitting at the table with Goyle, writing while listening to Goyle blather on about something. It made Al wonder if Hawk's nose was malfunctioning because Goyle still hadn't bathed.

Albus took the time to look at the wall covered in moss and vines. It seemed real enough, nothing fake or plastic about it. The wall was even a bit wet, possibly because they were under the lake. He could even see small trails of water falling down it here and there, and the leaves on the vines were moist and fresh smelling. There even looked to have been flowers blooming on it once, and he wondered if it were a seasonal plant. He also wondered if there had been magic involved, or if it was all purely natural in its growth.

Carefully, he placed a finger onto the spongy moss. It felt cool to the touch, almost soothing. It was like a balm for the skin, like maybe a healing plant. Al studied the bottom of the wall to see how it was connected, but the vines only went through the small crack in the floor straight below the wall. If he put his ear as close as possible to it, he could hear water dripping and splashing. The wall must be connected to the lake outside somehow; maybe even straight to the lake's bottom. It made him wonder why there wasn't seaweed growing on the wall instead. He bravely put his entire hand on the moss; it was very springy and soft, and got his hand only slightly damp.

"Are you going to flirt with the moss all evening," Scorpius asked, amused. "Or can I get some of that attention?"

Albus looked up at Scorpius abruptly, his thoughts interrupted. He raised an eyebrow at his friend's smirking face.

"I'm just curious about it, that's all." Albus had no clue as to what Scorpius meant about flirting, so he chose to ignore it. "Is that all right with his Highness or am I supposed to ask permission first?"

Scorpius laughed, and it was rather a nice laugh, Al decided. Scorpius made a beckoning gesture, but Albus shook his head in refusal. Scorpius pouted and widened his eyes in pleading. Albus smirked, almost laughed, and shook his head again. Scorpius's bottom lip wobbled and his face fell, as if he were about to cry. Albus rolled his eyes and pretended to care more about the vine near his ear.

"Aaaaaalllbus!" Scorpius whined.

"I'm busy," Al said impassively. "Just read your book."

He heard Orion chuckle. "Better do as he asks, Potter, or you'll make the little prince cry."

Al raised his eyes again. Upon seeing him looking, Scorpius put his face in his hands and pretended to cry loudly. At least, it sounded fake to him.

"Potter doesn't love me anymore," Scorpius wailed exaggeratingly. "First day of Hogwarts and my first real friend shuns me! Oh, woe is me!"

"You're such a drama queen," Al sighed. But it got the result Scorpius wanted; Albus stood and made his way over to where Scorpius sat. "All right, shut up, I'm here already."

Immediately, Scorpius stopped his phony sobbing and pulled Al down into his chair. It was a bit of a tight fit, but being skinny and small they were able to share well enough. Excited to have his best friend paying attention to him, Scorpius proceeded to indulge Al about the finer points of the book he'd been reading. Albus acted as if he weren't very interested, but a smile kept tugging at his mouth. James and Lily had never craved his attention like this.

.-.

For Astronomy class, they were up in the tallest tower, gazing at the stars through telescopes. They had to identify the constellations the night sky was showing them this month, and match their names to the drawings of them on their parchments. Albus found it relaxing in a way, if the wind wasn't so cold. He wrapped his green striped scarf closer to his mouth and put his hood up. He wished he had remembered his gloves.

In the starry sky, for early September, Al easily spotted the constellations Scorpio and Libra. He even pointed out to Scorpius his constellation namesake, and Scorpius had grunted with disinterest, rolling his eyes, and then looked into the telescope again. Albus scribbled down more names while Scorpius looked, and then when Scorpius was finished, Al got a turn. He found Virgo and Sagittarius and jotted them down. He then found Aquarius and Andromeda.

Then Albus pointed out to Scorpius that his father's constellation namesake was up in the sky too.

"Yes, Al, I know," Scorpius said shortly. "So are Aunt Andromeda and Great Aunt Delphinus. It's not a big deal. I used to stargaze with Mother a lot when I was younger and she'd point them all out, so I already know."

"Oh," said Al, feeling as if he'd just been put in his place. He had no reason for feeling as if he'd been just lectured by a teacher or adult, but it still felt that way. "Sorry I brought it up then." He looked away and busied himself with his star chart to hide his face.

After a minute, Scorpius put an arm around his shoulder and gave him a one-armed hug. He leaned his face closer to Al's and said quietly, "I'm sorry if I upset you, mate. I didn't mean to sound snappish. It's just that sometimes when someone tells me something I already know I get defensive for some reason. It's like… how should I put this? It feels like others think I'm stupid or slow or something, so they have to point things out to me. I just hate the feeling, you see."

"I understand," Al said quietly back. "I don't like being patronized, so I fully understand." He straightened back up and gave his friend a small smile to show there were no hard feelings.

"That's another big word that you know," Scorpius said with a twinkle in his eye. "You're full of surprises, Albus Potter."

"As are you, Scorpius Malfoy," Al said, smiling more genuinely now. "I promise I'll try not to make you feel stupid about things anymore—"

"Don't worry about it," Scorpius said, waving a dismissing hand. "That's the problem about my pet peeve: the other person doesn't know if I know something already, so it would be hard to judge my reaction. Just… well, just ask me if I know something or… I don't know. Mention something in a way that maybe sounds like you're discovering it or something. I don't know if I'm explaining this well enough."

"It's all right, I think I get it. When I had first pointed out the constellation, you didn't seem all that excited and that should have been my first clue. So yeah, I'm sure that I'll catch on to your signals and expressions and what they mean. I mean…" Albus laughed somewhat nervously. "We'd only just become friends; we don't know everything about each other yet. There's bound to be some bumps and bruises along the way, I think. We just need to stay positive and keep working on our friendship if we want to last."

"That sounds like what a Gryffindor would say," Scorpius said. He had that teasing look to his facial features, so Al knew he wasn't too serious.

"Them's fightin' words, mate," Albus joked back.

Scorpius was about to retort when Professor Sinistra got after them for not doing their work. Blushing mostly from embarrassment, and a little from the ribbing they'd been giving each other, Al and Scorpius went back to their star charts.

.-.

The next day, they had Charms with Professor Flitwick. The little professor was older and wiser than he'd been before, but still full of spirit and knowledge of his subject. When Flitwick was taking roll call, he'd paused on certain names and his reactions were different for each one. Malfoy's name had produced knitted brows and pursed lips, but nothing overly disgruntling. Al's name had produced the raising of eyebrows first, and then a small smile. Nott's and Goyle's names made the professor frown.

Just like in Transfigurations, Scorpius was the first to accomplish their assignment. They had to mainly practice wand movement and remember that they must be careful in annunciating. They won't be doing actual spells yet until they've got some of the basics down. Scorpius told all who could hear him that he'd already been practicing certain first and second year spells, thanks to his parents.

Albus didn't have such luck; his parents thought it was best to wait until he started school before helping him practice any magic. So Al had to suffer his envy of his brother quietly, while James got to practice magic with Mum and Dad during his first holiday break in his first year. Which wasn't to say that Albus hadn't cheated and practiced on his own; that was how he knew to do the leg-locker curse and other curses. His parents never found out that he'd been practicing in secret. Besides, Albus never got caught doing underage magic at home; especially since James was allowed to do it for practice. No one thought Al had been doing magic also.

After lunch, they had a little time before their next class: Defense Against the Dark Arts. Their professor was a middle-aged, somewhat handsome man who'd used to work for the Aurors and had survived the war. What Albus found fascinating about him wasn't that he'd been an Auror, nor was it because he'd been in the same war as his parents, but because he kept his actions during the war a secret until it was over. Professor Hobday had been a spy in the Ministry (back when it was taken over by Voldemort and his followers), making the Ministry think he was on their side, but secretly he'd been sending vital information to certain members of the Order.

"I'd been in Slytherin back in my school days, you see," the professor was telling him as he walked back and forth in front of the class. "I was a couple grades down from Severus Snape—you all heard about Snape, yeah?—and I thought that a lot of what the Dark Lord had been about was a load of codswallop. Of course, I never said this outright, because back in those days it wasn't smart to side with Dumbledore and be a Slytherin at the same time. Even though we had a great Head of House—Professor Slughorn—us students were still careful on how we spoke and acted.

"Still, that didn't mean I was the only Slytherin on Dumbledore's side, no sir! I found out that a girl in my school year, Nora Blackburn, felt the same way. We'd talk and talk the night away, about everything and anything; no one suspected, until one of my other mates got wind—but luckily for us, he felt the same way! So, there we were, planning and plotting, but a lot of times we were too afraid to act or say anything. So what did I do when I got the chance? I spied for the Order! And so, one night when I knew no one was looking—"

And Professor Hobday went on and on and on. It wasn't until the last twenty minutes of class that he realized that he'd been talking too long, and then quickly went over the roster and the rules, and finally in the last minute before the bell, he assigned homework, which wasn't too bad: it was only a few pages they had to read in their textbook. It was their first lesson of the week after all.

Before dinner, Albus, Scorpius, and Orion did some of their homework in the Slytherin common room. There were a few older students milling about, talking in low tones, studying and doing homework like them, or having fun playing some wizard's chess or some card game. Just as Albus was putting the finishing touches on his Herbology paper, the dark-haired prefect with heavy-lidded eyes (Albus hadn't got her name yet) handed him a piece of parchment.

"This is for you," she said shortly. Albus gingerly took it with his finger and thumb.

"Thanks," he said. Once the prefect left, Albus unfurled the note and read.

It was from Hagrid. He asked Al if he'd like to have tea with him this afternoon. Albus almost forgot that he'd promised he would, before he even got to Hogwarts. Being Sorted into Slytherin made him forget completely.

He didn't know if Hagrid knew which house he was sorted into, but even if Hagrid knew he didn't sound like he minded. Al was a little worried about how the half-giant would react; then again, if Hagrid did know, Albus should make sure that he didn't tell his parents.

_Bring a friend, if you like,_ Hagrid had said before signing off. Al glanced at Scorpius and wondered how Hagrid would take the news of him being best friends with a Malfoy.

No matter, Al thought; if Hagrid had a problem with it then it was his own fault.

"Whose it from?" Scorpius asked.

"A friend of my family's…" Al took a deep breath. "Hagrid."

Scorpius furrowed his brow. "You mean that half-giant that teaches Care of Magical Creatures, and is the keeper of keys and grounds here? _That_ Hagrid?"

Al nodded. There really wasn't much to say on the subject.

"Well, have fun then," Scorpius said. He went back to his homework.

"You don't want to come with me?"

Scorpius snorted. "Come with you? I don't think so. I'm not that crazy. Why'd I want to spend time with an oaf like him?"

"Oi!" Al bristled. "He's a close friend of the family's."

"So I've heard."

"He said I could bring a friend, if I like, and I'd like to bring you."

"Sorry, can't," Scorpius said brusquely. "I want to finish this before dinner."

"I thought you were almost done, like me."

"You go on ahead and visit your large friend," Scorpius said, ignoring Al's remark. "I'll save you a seat at the Slytherin table."

There was no mistaking the dismissive tone in Scorpius's voice. Al was disappointed but he kind of understood. Scorpius's father no doubt had told him about Hagrid, and probably put some prejudice thoughts into his head. Albus hoped that Scorpius would get over it in time; right now he didn't feel like arguing.

On the way down to see Hagrid, Al met up with Rose and James. Rose smiled and hugged him, waving a piece of parchment in her hand that was similar to the one that Al got. James grunted his hello and kept walking.

"I take it we were all invited to Hagrid's?" Albus said.

"I believe so," said Rose. "I think Molly, Dominique, Fred, and Victoire already seen him, so now it's our turn." Al had nearly forgotten about his four other relations being at Hogwarts, but shrugged it off; he'd been too busy to contemplate anything else since he'd been sorted.

"I tried to get Scorpius to come with us," Al admitted. "But he didn't want to."

"Typical Malfoy," James said. "It's probably a good thing that he didn't come with us. I reckon Hagrid wouldn't want to see him anyway."

"I'm sure Hagrid would've been fine with it," Al said. "Um, I think. I mean—does Hagrid know which House I was sorted into?"

"No idea," Rose said. "I guess we'll soon fine out."

They reached Hagrid's hut in no time. It looked exactly the way his dad had described it. As they drew close to the door, Al let James be the one to knock. He was too nervous to do so himself.

The moment James had knocked there came a few booming barks and sounds of movement inside. The door opened a crack and half of Hagrid's hairy face was shown. His beard, mustache, and long, shaggy hair had been a dark color once, but it was now seasoned with white and gray.

"It's us, Hagrid," James said.

"Oh, you're 'ere," said Hagrid. "Good, good. Hang on a tic—get back now, Fang. _Back, boy!_"

With a firm hand on the boarhound's collar, Hagrid opened the door wider for them to enter. James went first, followed by Rose and then Albus. Al was a bit wary of the large dog; he slid around the others in order to keep his distance, his eyes never straying from the black boarhound. When Hagrid shut the door, Al nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Relax, Al," Rose said soothingly, placing a hand on his arm.

When Hagrid released Fang, the dog went straight for James. James welcomed the dog happily, allowing it to lick his face while he scratched behind its ears. He didn't seem to mind the drool either, and Al shuddered; give him a cat any day. At least they were relatively clean, and purred. Albus loved it when they purred.

"Who's a good doggie?" James said in something similar to baby talk. "That's right, you are!"

Al didn't know whether to laugh or roll his eyes.

Rose led him over to the large guest sofa. He sat on the farthest side, away from James and Fang. Rose sat in the middle and kept a calming hand on his knee. Hagrid poured them all some tea and set some rock cakes next to their cups. With one look, Al knew he'd never eat them.

"So," Hagrid started. He sat himself down in his large armchair by the fire before them. He mostly looked at James, but then, hesitantly, he'd glance at Al. Hagrid finally brought his gaze over to Rose. "How's yer first day at Hogwarts been?"

Albus had the distinct feeling that Hagrid was mostly talking to Rose, but was trying to act as if he were speaking to them both.

"It's been great," Rose said. "I'm enjoying every class so far."

"That's great— wonderful," said Hagrid. "And, wow, yer in Ravenclaw! I'll bet your mum is dead chuffed! Not as good as Gryffindor, but still, at least it's not—" here, Hagrid caught himself and looked over at Albus.

"Yeah, finally remembered I was here, did you?" Al retorted.

"Oi, no need to take that tone of voice with me," Hagrid said. "I'm a teacher, yeh know."

"Yes, but not _my_ teacher—not yet."

"Al," Rose warned from the corner of her mouth. Albus ignored her, keeping his gaze aimed straight at Hagrid's.

"I'm still a teacher," Hagrid reminded Al sternly. "Best you remember that, young Potter."

"Of course," Al said. "And you best remember that although I'm a Slytherin I'm still Harry Potter's son. I'm not a pushover."

"I never said yeh were!" Hagrid boomed.

"Fine, fair cop," Al said, almost sneering. "But I didn't come here to be insulted by a friend of the family's. Or to eat rocks that you pass off as cakes—"

"AL!" Rose gasped.

"—I came to ask you not to owl my parents, or any of my family members, about my being sorted into Slytherin. I want to surprise them when we come home for the winter hols."

Hagrid didn't look very happy about Al's attitude toward him, nor did he seem pleased by what Al had said about his cakes, but he wasn't shouting or throwing them out either. Hagrid sat there; face red and fists clenched, as if he were willing himself to remember that Al was indeed Harry Potter's son. Not that it should stop Hagrid from throwing him out, Al thought, but at least Hagrid was trying to keep it together. Most likely for the sake of his father.

"Did you know about this, Rose?" Hagrid asked quietly, voice tense.

"Yes," Rose said. "Actually, my parents don't know about me yet either, Hagrid, so best not say anything to them about me either. I know my mum will probably guess, but I would still rather not tell them outright."

"It'll be a laugh," James finally chimed in. He looked somewhat amused by the friction that was developing between his brother and Hagrid. "I reckon Mum might go barmy when she finds out."

"Dad told me it wouldn't matter to them if I was sorted into Slytherin," Al said. "I'm sure he was telling the truth. I don't think they'd actually disown me." Even though he'd said, and hoped for it, he still wasn't sure it was the truth.

"My dad was only taking the mickey, Al," Rose said. "At least, I'm sure he was."

Albus tried to stay irritated, but found he couldn't. He deflated as he thought about his mum. Would she really blow her top at him when she discovered he wasn't sorted into her house? And would Dad stick up for him, shield him, from her barbs? Albus sunk deeper into the giant sofa and turned his head away, not wanting to look at anyone right now. He wished he'd stayed in the dungeons with Scorpius.

The tension evaporated somewhat, and it could be heard just how much it had by the tone of Hagrid's voice.

"Well, drink up yer teas now, so you aren't late fer dinner. Don't want to go ter bed with empty stomachs now, do we?"

After a minute, Albus decided he might as well have a bit of Hagrid's tea. It was one of the reasons he was there, after all. He unstuck himself from the back of the sofa and leaned forward to take his cup. Doing so, he glanced over at his brother, who still had Fang's head on his lap and getting drooled on. Al almost laughed; although, James didn't seem to mind. Rose was nearly done with her tea, and even though she wasn't smiling she didn't look angry either.

As he sipped his tea carefully (thankfully it wasn't very hot, and it was surprisingly not bad), he peered over the rim of his teacup to look at Hagrid…

And nearly choked on his tea in surprise. There were small tear tracks running into Hagrid's beard; Hagrid was crying.

Hands shaking, Albus set his cup down onto his saucer and carefully set them both down on the table in front of him.

"Hagrid, I'm—"

"It's all righ'," Hagrid interrupted. He took out a large handkerchief and blew his nose loudly. "I suppose I was a bit out o' order with what I were 'bout to say…about Slytherins, and I apologize. You were named after Severus Snape after all, and he'd always been there for Dumbledore when he needed 'im…" Hagrid then cried even harder from the thought of the old headmaster. "Oh!" he hiccupped, "I still blubber like an old fool every time I think of old Albus—I'm sorry, I din' mean fer you all ter see me like this—" Hagrid blew his nose again, and it sounded like a car horn.

"It's all right, Hagrid," Albus said. "I'm—I'm sorry, too. I guess I'm just really touchy about the way others treat Slytherins. I don't want to be thought of as a typical Slytherin, you know? I don't want others painting us all with the same brush. And I want to prove to everyone that I'm not evil."

"'Course yer not evil," Hagrid said hotly. "Who said you were evil?"

"Well… no one in particular, but isn't that what everyone else from other houses consider Slytherins? That they're all evil? Well, I'll put a stop to that way of thinking, you mark my words."

His statement was bold, he knew, and it silenced all of them for a while. It was almost a full two minutes of quiet tea-drinking before the three students decided to hurry back in time for dinner. Hagrid had still looked somewhat sad and remorseful before they left. Al tried to quickly fix the small rift that had emerged between them, hoping he hadn't damaged the friendship too badly. Hagrid easily accepted Al's apology, understanding glowing softly in those beetle black eyes, and gave Al a near bone-crushing hug.

Albus remembered when he'd first met Hagrid, back when he was very small. It was during one of his father's birthday celebrations and Hagrid decided to give Harry his present in person instead of by owl. If Al remembered correctly, the reason for it was because the gift was too large for school owls to carry. At the moment, he couldn't remember what the gift was, but he did remember how huge Hagrid looked to him then.

Albus had been scared shitless.

After a while, though, Al got used to the half-giant. James had always taken a liking to Hagrid since he was a year old. Al had finally stopped hiding in his room whenever the large man came for a visit when he was about nine years old. It was probably because he'd reached a certain height, and Hagrid's tallness didn't seem as scary as before. Either that or Hagrid learned that he'd get a better reaction out of little Albus if he sat on the floor or the large couch instead of staying standing and being a frightening looming giant.

Either way, Al and Hagrid had become friends of sorts, and though Albus wasn't as excited to see Hagrid every time he'd arrive, like James and Lily had, their interactions had been pleasant enough. Albus was more introvert than James when it came to certain people, and that included friends of the family.

"Blimey," James said as they trekked back to the castle. "I thought for sure Hagrid was going to toss your arse out his front door like a garden gnome. I'd never seen him that angry before."

"His weeping spells are getting better, though," Rose added. "Didn't cry nearly as long this time. Maybe we should mention Dumbledore once in a while whenever we visit, so he'll finally get it out of his system."

"Question is," Albus said, "will he ever?"

.-.

The rest of the week seemed to fly by. When Thursday came, most were excited to finally have their flying lesson. Albus was only slightly worried. His godfather, Teddy Lupin, had bought him his first broom when he'd turned two. It wasn't the usual broom used by adults, but the smaller model for children. Albus had a lot of fun on that toy broom. That was, until James broke it. To this day, James swears that it had been an accident, but Al still wasn't sure.

"I'm not worried," Scorpius had said on their way down to breakfast. "I'm a natural on a broom; Father told me so. I only wish I could bring my own racing broom with me this year and try out for the Quidditch team. Unfortunately, there's nothing my father can do about it, though he's tried plenty of times. He reckons that if Harry Potter—your dad—could get on the team during his first year then other first years should get the same chance. I agree with Father. What do you think, Albus?"

"Well, I suppose I see the sides of both arguments. It's very understandable why first years shouldn't be on the Quidditch team. However, I think leaving it up to the parents to decide if their child is ready to be a part of the dangerous wizarding sport would be fair too. I could probably make the team this year, if it were allowed."

"Yeah, it'd be great," Orion Zabini said. "I wouldn't mind being a Chaser."

"Those Proudfoot twins, though," Nott said from behind them, making Albus jump out of his skin. "They're a force to be reckoned with. I doubt anyone could beat them in the try-outs."

"Bloody hell, Nott, will you stop sneaking up on people like that?" Al said.

"Sorry, mate," Nott said. He backed off immediately, like he was a naughty puppy who'd just piddled on your shoe.

After a hearty breakfast, and a quick hello to Rose at the Ravenclaw table, the first year Slytherins and Gryffindors filed out toward the Quidditch pitch. In his excitement, Al had forgotten that they'd shared their flying lesson with the Gryffindors. He hoped nothing too bad happened; he'd heard about what his dad and Scorpius's dad did during their first lesson. Despite the Proudfoot twins wanting him to repeat what his father had done in his first year, so that he could get on the Quidditch team, Albus doubted he'd be able to. For one thing, no one had a Remembrall.

They were the first ones there. On the lawn, lying in rows, were the old school brooms. Swiftly, they stood in front of one and waited as they'd been instructed by a prefect. Not ten minutes later, the Gryffindor first years arrived. Leading the group was none other than Harold Knight. Al remembered him, but hadn't seen him since the sorting. It looked like Knight got himself some devoted friends too.

The flying instructor came out, adjusting his gloves, his face stern and no-nonsense. His robes were bottle green and his hair was salt and pepper, eyes sky blue.

"All right, first years, stand to the left of your broomstick now. Hurry up."

Everyone obeyed without question. Albus wasn't sure what their instructor's name was, but he was too afraid to raise his hand and ask. When he looked up from the dewy grass, he saw Harold Knight standing across from him. Al tried to give Knight a friendly smile, but Knight ignored him even though he'd been looking straight at him. Knight had turned his head to say something to his neighbour—one of his friends—in a low voice, and they laughed. Albus went red, knowing he was probably talking about him.

"Right," said their teacher. "Everyone stick their right hand over their broom, and say 'up!'"

"UP!" they all yelled.

Albus's broom flew right up into his waiting hand. He was impressed because he didn't know you could do that with a broom. Whenever he rode his father's broom at home he'd just pick it up manually. Now it made him wonder if there was a reason why his parents hadn't taught him that he could just use a simple command to bring a broom straight into his hand.

Al hadn't been the only one that had their broom obediently jump into their outstretched hand. Scorpius's broom also shot up into his open palm, as did Zabini's, Bletchley's, Cornfoot's, Nott's, and Montague's. Some Gryffindors were able to do it too, including Knight. Others, however, were having some difficulties. Goyle's broom would hover only a few inches off the ground before falling back down again. Starla Baddock's broom kept rolling over and over as if it were a dog. Sophie Warrington's broom rolled and then kept rolling across the grass away from her, so she had to chase after it. Louisa Higgs' broom did absolutely nothing.

On the Gryffindor side, Leo Creevey's broom stood from the ground as if he'd just stepped on the business end of a rake, and got smacked in the face. Polly Roper's broom raised its handle for a moment, as if dancing a jig, and then flopped down dead. Rupert Morgan's broom was nearly in his hand, except it slipped away before he could close his hand around it and it flew straight for Mara Flint who was standing on the other side of Zabini. Flint had to duck or she'd get a broomstick in the eye.

Finally, once everyone had their brooms and chaos was put to rest, the flying instructor went around correcting everyone's grip. When he reached the very end of the rows, there was a sudden shriek and a Gryffindor girl was suddenly streaking away on her broom, screaming her head off.

"Miss Peakes!" the instructor shouted. It happened so fast there had been no way of stopping her. Peakes smacked headlong into one of the trees lining the entrance to the Forbidden Forest. The flying instructor and a few Gryffindors ran after her. Albus and the rest of the Slytherins stayed put, not wanting to get involved.

"Oh, I hope Zerelda's okay!" said Harrieta Finch-Fletchley, dancing on tip-toe. "She can't miss Potions class tomorrow or her dad will have a fit!"

Albus snorted and rolled his eyes. Missing her first class of Potions was probably the least of Peakes' worries right now. Finch-Fletchley should get her priorities straight.

As he'd been watching the instructor and a few Gryffindors check on Peakes, Al hadn't noticed that someone had slid beside him noiselessly. The voice in his ear made him jump.

"Think you'll make a name for yourself, like your father?" It was Knight. Al thought that of all the Gryffindors there, he thought Knight would have run to help Peakes too, but he obviously decided to stay and bother Al. Lovely.

Al turned his head sharply and glared at the Gryffindor. "What's that supposed to mean, Knight?"

Knight shrugged. "Well, you know. Your dad was very famous, even before he knew he was a wizard. He could out-fly almost everyone at Hogwarts; the best Seeker—and the youngest—Gryffindor's ever had. And he defeated the darkest wizard of his time, who was practically immortal. But, of course, that's not all."

Albus wanted to ignore Knight, but his words intrigued him. He knew only a little of what his dad did during the war, because his dad didn't like to talk about it. Al had even heard his dad cry out in the middle of the night sometimes. When eavesdropping on his parents one day, he'd heard them talking about it. Apparently his dad's nightmares used to be worse before James was born, and they had been contemplating on what triggered them again. Al didn't pry, even though he wanted to, he was so worried. But it's been years now since he'd heard his father wake up screaming. Either they used spells to silence their room so they didn't wake the rest of the house, or the nightmares had stopped somehow.

Either way, Albus still wondered about it and worried for his dad. That was one of the main reasons for not asking questions; he didn't want to be responsible for triggering the nightmares again.

It didn't stop him for being curious about what Dad had done during his days at Hogwarts, and during the war. Albus could have easily asked Aunt Hermione or Uncle Ron, but again Al didn't want his dad to know he'd been asking about him. Albus only knew so much from whispers, rumors, and a handful of books. Now that he was at Hogwarts, he could search the library for more info, the moment he was more settled into his routine.

Albus turned to fully face Knight now, taking his eyes off the scene of the broomstick crash. "What else did my dad do?" he dared to ask.

Grinning as though he was enjoying a great joke, Knight leaned in closer and whispered, "He became the master of death."

Albus snorted and then broke out into peals of laughter. "Oh, that's rich! How in the wide wizarding world did my dad master death? He isn't immortal!"

"No," Knight said, still whispering. "But Lord Voldemort couldn't kill him." He stepped back, grinning at the surprised look on Al's face. "You see, Voldemort—that super dark wizard your father defeated—was trying to be the master of death, which he almost was, but your father was able to chip away at his immortality. But with the Deathly Hallows—"

"The what?" Al gasped.

"The Deathly Hallows. Clearly you've heard of them? Your dad hadn't kept you that much in the dark, surely. It was what Lord Voldemort was trying to get his hands on, even though he'd done the unspeakable thing in order to become immortal…"

Albus had no clue about what Knight was blathering on about. Of course, his dad hadn't said a word about the Deathly Hallows. Then again, he'd never asked.

"You see," Knight continued, lowering his voice even more because the instructor was making his way back. "Your father was able to get all three Hallows, and in doing so he became the master of death—"

Knight wasn't able to say any more, because their instructor started barking orders. He had the prefect bring Peakes to the hospital wing, and they had to go back into their formation and continue with the lesson.

Even though Albus was following the instructor's orders, getting the feel of being on a real broom and how to handle it, his mind was elsewhere. He figured that his dad wouldn't have told him about the Deathly Hallows, but now that Knight had told him, he found his curiosity rising with every moment.

What if his dad still had the Hallows? Was it possible that he or James would acquire them because they were Harry Potter's sons? If so, who would get what? And just what were the Hallows? Albus had to find out more.

.-.

Before curfew that very night, Albus visited the library. He was determined to find as much information about his dad and the Deathly Hallows as possible. The librarian, Mrs Readington, was strict on just what he could check out. Al asked if he could look in the restricted section, but she told him that he must have a signed permission form in order to get a specific book from there. Not only did Al not have a clue as to what book had information on the Deathly Hallows, but he wasn't sure if he would find a teacher willing to sign the form.

In the meantime, since he was already there, Albus looked through the area of books he could check out without a problem. As he was browsing one of the aisles, Scorpius walked in and found him.

"What are you doing?" he asked Al, voice a little haughty. "You said we were going to do our assigned reading homework together. Why are you in here?"

"Just looking for something," Al said, his mind more on looking through the book titles.

"Is it for homework? Because if it isn't then come back to the common room with me. I'm not about to fall behind on schoolwork because you decided to find a book of leisure."

"Why do you need me there with you?" Al said, still not looking at Scorpius as he talked. "If you're so worried about getting your work done, then just start the reading assignments without me."

Scorpius crossed his arms over his chest and protruded his bottom lip. "I don't want to. Er, I mean, I can't. Every time I try to start reading alone someone interrupts me. The first few times someone interrupted it was to ask where you were, because you're usually with me. The other times was to ask me a question about their homework and half the time I can't answer it for them. Whenever you're with me, the others usually leave me—and you—alone."

"Ah," Al said absentmindedly. "I see—oh, here's an interesting one."

"Good, great, you found yourself a book," Scorpius said tersely. "Now let's go already."

Rolling his eyes, Albus complied. After checking the book out and following Scorpius back to the dungeons, he had to admit it was rather sweet the way Scorpius was always pining for him whenever he was out of his sight. It made him wonder how Scorpius was going to handle it when Albus was with his family during the holiday, away from him.

.-.

Friday morning came, and with it was the anticipation of going to their first Potions class.

As Albus sat at the Slytherin table, Malfoy and Zabini flanking him, a few owls swooped into the Great Hall. The mail had arrived.

As usual, James's pet owl Perseus landed next to James's elbow after dropping a letter in his lap. Grinning, James patted his owl on the head and popped the last bite off his fork before picking up the letter and opening it. Albus had an idea who it was from, because he could recognize the stationary from there: it was from their mum.

It made him think about his own letter he'd sent just last evening to his parents. He'd used his black owl, named Merlin, to deliver it. Instead of addressing it to just his dad, like he originally wanted to, he opted to write 'Dear Mum and Dad'; that way his mother wouldn't suddenly wonder why Albus was only writing to his dad. He made sure he'd worded his letter carefully; he didn't want to give away which house he was in yet.

Also customary, Scorpius's owl Horus landed smoothly in front of them, carrying a package from home. Beaming, Scorpius took the package off his owl's leg and tossed it a bit of his bacon. As Horus ate, Scorpius opened the parcel and let out a shout of delight.

"Sweets from home," Scorpius said, still beaming. "Mother and Father didn't disappoint."

Albus peered into the box to see an assortment of snacks, from a stack of chocolate frogs to homebaked biscuits. Almost everything that was Scorpius's favorites were inside. Al almost felt jealous. That was, until Scorpius grabbed two chocolate frogs, a few cauldron cakes, some chocolate biscuits, and a pepper imp and handed them to him.

"There you are then," Scorpius said, a little embarrassed. "Can't forget my best friend's share in the haul. I'm not sure what my father would say about me giving you some of it, but I'm sure my mother wouldn't mind."

Albus stared down at the handful of treats Scorpius gave him, his throat closing up and his nose stinging as he held back his emotions.

"I—thank you, Score..."

Scorpius beamed, eyes bright; he was delighted to have made his friend so happy.

It was time for Potions class, and the majority of the Slytherin first years were looking forward to it. Albus was excited too, and not just because the class was taught by their Head of House, Professor Lorcan d'Eath. He'd always been fascinated by the many ways that potions were brewed and the things that they could do. When Al was a few years younger, he had a small potions kit that was for beginners, like how he had a beginners broomstick. James thought he was weird for being so into potions, but a few times Lily had actually sat and watched him mixing some of the simple, yet harmless, brews. There were times when Lily was actually decent company compared to his older brother James.

The Potions classroom was similar to his Head of House's office: the walls were lined with glass jars full of pickled animals, and containers filled with who-knew-what. Not to mention that the room itself was rather cold, and like d'Eath's office, there was no fire going in the hearth. Most of the students were huddled together for warmth, and some had even started a small fire under their cauldrons already, even though it wasn't a very smart thing to do. Although, granted, some put water in them first.

Beside him, Scorpius conjured up a bright blue fire inside one of his empty potions beakers. They kept their hands close to it to thaw out their fingers. When other Slytherins noticed how they were keeping warm, they asked Scorpius to make them a blue fire too, and courteously Scorpius did. The Gryffindors on the other side of the room, however, were looking at them with different expressions on their faces. Some were envious and others were angry. When Albus told them that they could do the same, if they had someone in their house willing to conjure a blue flame too, Knight told him off for it, calling him a rule-breaker.

"Oh, _I'm_ a rule-breaker?" Albus snapped.

Things would have escalated if it hadn't been for their professor entering the classroom. Professor d'Eath strolled in, black cape bellowing out behind him. The entire class went silent. When the professor stopped at the head of the classroom, he turned around abruptly and ogled them all with his intense eyes.

"What's with the fires, then?" he asked the Slytherins.

Embarrassed, or maybe just plain scared, everyone stayed silent. Albus felt he should speak up, but whenever he opened his mouth Scorpius nudged him with his elbow to shut him up. Al looked at Scorpius; he was mouthing 'no' and shaking his head slightly but quickly.

"Come now, I need an answer," Professor d'Eath said. "We don't have all day. We must begin our lesson."

"It was Malfoy, sir," spoke a Gryffindor from the far side of the room. Everyone's heads turned, including the professor's, to stare at him. The Gryffindor realized he had everyone's eyes trained on him and went red.

"Indeed?" d'Eath said. He seemed to float as he moved to stand beside Scorpius and Al's desk. "Is this true, Mr Malfoy?"

Scorpius bowed his head, a strand of blond-white hair falling into his face. "Yes, sir—but it was only to keep us warm, sir. It's extremely cold in here; I can't feel my toes."

The Potions Master scanned the room of worried faces. "Is this true? Is it really that cold in here?"

Many nodded, both from Slytherin and Gryffindor. The professor seemed to ponder on this as he made his way back to his desk.

"Well, I hadn't realized it was that cold for you normal witches and wizards—"

There were some confused looks shared between some Gryffindors, which was odd because Albus thought everyone knew about the professor.

A Gryffindor girl's hand went into the air, but she spoke before being called on. "Um, excuse me, sir? But did you just call _us_ normal? Does this mean that you're—that you're not?"

Professor d'Eath cut his gaze toward her and she turned pink. "Indeed, I am not your average wizard. I thought your Head of House would have addressed that by now. Or was Professor Longbottom skirting the issue for some unfathomable reason?"

The girl shrugged and ducked her head, lips pressed firmly into a thin line.

"Very well," d'Eath said. "I'll tell you all what I am before I take roll call, then.

"I am not just a wizard; I am part vampire."

The Gryffindors gasped, some gaped as they stared at the Potions master while others went pale or pink and murmured, "Oh my god, it's true!"

The Slytherins didn't really react, because they had an inkling already. But if any of them hadn't known before, they were hiding their reactions to the news quite well.

"I'm not about to go into my family history right now, no matter how curious some of you are," he added swiftly, because the brave girl who had spoke up had raised her hand again. "My personal business has nothing to do with making potions, so don't even ask. I'll take roll call now, and when I say your name you say you're here. If I hear nothing then I'm marking you absent. Is that understood?"

He swept behind his desk and sat. As he took roll call he would sometimes pause on a name, as if considering something, and then go on. When he reached Albus's name, he paused and looked straight at him.

"Here, sir," Al said immediately.

"Yes, I know," the professor said tersely. He stayed silent for a long moment, making Albus squirm a bit in his chair.

Then the professor continued as if he'd never stopped. The only one absent was Peakes, and she was still in the hospital wing mending.

Once finished, Professor d'Eath stood from his seat and went to stand in front of the class again. He folded his arms over his chest, and some of the class shivered. It reminded Al that it was still rather cold in the room and he hoped that in future classes the professor would have a blazing fire going before they'd stepped inside.

"This class won't be using wands, so you can put them away. Potion brewing is a subtle science, which for some it might take some time to perfect. Some are able to grasp the mechanics of it, some are not. I don't expect everyone will fully understand the full beauty of it, of the power potions have over the very senses and minds of humans. Yes, Miss Finnigan, some potions do not effect me."

Shannon Finnigan, who had raised her hand and was about to ask that very question, went pale when he knew what her question was going to be and shrank into her chair. It made Albus even more curious about the professor's abilities; could he read minds, or did he just know what she was about to ask from previous experience?

"Now," Professor d'Eath continued, "I don't expect everyone to make their potions with a hundred percent complete accuracy. If one is willing to make the effort then you may do so, and if one has the knack of making potions with nearly a hundred percent accuracy then you will no doubt ace my class and maybe even go on to getting your NEWT for this class after your OWLs are passed. However, if one is not careful and does nothing but fool around then they will find themselves out of my class and will not come back. For good careers in the wizarding world one must have at least an OWL in this class. So, be forewarned. You will be starting off small, but even so I want you to pay close attention to the list of ingredients I will put on the blackboard and to follow the directions precisely."

Everyone rushed to get the ingredients from the cupboard and start on their potions. They were doing a simple one to cure boils. Albus read and re-read the list of ingredients and the instructions; it was so simple looking to him he knew there was no way he would fail.

However, having Scorpius as his potions partner was an added bonus. They barely had to say anything to each other as they carried on with their work. They took turns putting in ingredients and doing the instructions indicated. As they were nearly done, something happened on the Gryffindor side of the room. There was thick smoke and suddenly a melting cauldron. Albus watched in horror as the spilt potion oozed over the floor and ate a few holes into others' shoes. Al and Scorpius got on their stools to avoid it happening to their footwear.

With a sigh and an annoyed look, Professor d'Eath vanished the potion away and ordered someone to bring Mr Creevey to the hospital wing.

The professor shook his head, almost sadly. "There's always someone not following instructions, no matter what I say at the start of class."

When class was over and almost everyone had filed out, Albus purposely stayed behind to talk to the teacher. Most of the Gryffindors couldn't wait to leave the room, most likely because of the cold and unpleasantness of the room and its professor. Albus was slow to put his things away, and Scorpius was worried about why he seemed to be lagging (even Scorpius considered it a mite chilly in the room and wished to warm up in their dormitory). Albus reassured him and told him to go ahead without him; he'll catch up.

Once the door had closed behind Scorpius, Albus was the only student left now. Professor d'Eath still had his nose buried in some papers and hadn't looked up since he'd dismissed class. Cautiously, Al stepped up to his desk. Before he could clear his throat to signal that he was there, d'Eath spoke.

"What do you want, Mr Potter?" He hadn't even taken his eyes off the parchment in front of him.

"Oh, er… I wanted to ask you something."

Still not looking up, d'Eath turned the piece of parchment over and started to read the back. "Oh? What is it?"

Not sure if the professor was actually paying attention or not, Albus figured it was safe enough to breech the subject. If he didn't hear him at first then he could always change his mind and excuse himself.

"Er, well, I was wondering if you knew anything about the Deathly Hallows."

Professor d'Eath's head snapped up and he stared at Al with glowing eyes. Albus stepped back in shock, hoping he hadn't angered the professor somehow.

"The Deathly Hallows?" the professor breathed lowly. "How did you find out about them?"

"I just overheard another student," Albus said nervously. "I was wondering if it's true…"

"Get out," d'Eath growled. Albus's eyes went wide.

"But, sir, I don't understand—"

"Don't even think about them anymore, young Potter. You let sleeping dragons lie. Don't search them out. Leave things alone. Do I make myself clear?"

Professor d'Eath was leaning forward on his desk, nails digging into the wood and face screwed up in a snarl. Albus wasn't sure if he should be scared for himself or worried for his teacher's well-being. Did the professor need feeding or was he just cranky because the sun was up?

"Sir, I really don't understand why it's—"

"Get to your dormitory, Mr Potter," Professor d'Eath said, voice raised. "NOW."

"Yes, sir," Albus nearly squeaked. He grabbed his stuff and ran as fast as he could out of the classroom.

TBC


	4. Tryouts and Trials

Albus Potter and the Cunning Plan

Chapter four

Author: lunadeath02

Pairing(s): Albus/Scorpius (will become), other minor ones

Rating: PG-13 (might go up in later chapters, depending on the context and plot)

Warnings: slight language, some canon is ignored; OCs for story's sake; minor angst and some violence, about what you might find in the average HP book.

Notes: Year One will probably be finished in two or three more chapters after this one.

Spoilers: All seven books

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and its characters belong to JK Rowling and Warner Brothers, etc. But the original characters in here are mine. Don't use them without my permission.

.-.

**Tryouts and Trials**

It was October, and the Quidditch tryouts were underway. Albus knew he couldn't partake in them, but he wanted to watch them nonetheless. The first weekend of the month was reserved for the Gryffindor team. James was captain, and therefore was in charge of watching each applicant try out for their preferred positions. One of their Chasers had left, so they went with those trying out for that position first. It was no surprise, really, when it was declared that Kevin Mars was made their new Chaser. Gareth Jupitus was able to retain his spot as Beater, as did Richard Sloper. The other Chasers, Ulla Hunt and Edward Trapper, were also kept on. Their Keeper, Arwin Wood, was still better than any of the other candidates.

He had to admit, he was a little in awe of his brother with the way he handled everything. It was no wonder he'd been made Captain. He was also brilliant as the Gryffindor Seeker. There was no way anyone from Gryffindor could match his skills.

Of course, Albus was rather good at that position too. Whenever James opted to play another position back home, like Chaser or Keeper, Al was usually made Seeker. Whenever that happened, they usually won. James didn't admit it aloud how pleased he was with his little brother's abilities, but Al could still see it in his face. Remembering the times they had together, before he'd been sorted, made Al painfully nostalgic.

He'd noticed Harold Knight watching the tryouts too, and that he'd noticed Al, but they didn't say anything to each other. Knight just smiled slightly, as if amused that Al was even there. Albus had just raised an eyebrow.

Not even a week later, it was the Slytherin captain's turn to do tryouts. Albus watched those as well, seeing how it was his house's team (and that he was hoping to get on the team next year). The captain this year was Spica Baddock, Starla's big sister, whom had been captain last year too from what he'd heard. She was just as awe-inspiring as James had been, and she found some good replacement members too.

Owain Thickey, to their misfortune, made the cut again and was able to retain his position as the Slytherin Seeker. The Proudfoot twins were also no match for anyone else that tried out for the Beater position. When they'd seen that Thickey was still their Seeker, one of them (or possibly both) had hit a Bludger straight at Thickey as he was just landing after catching the snitch. It had nearly taken one of his ears off.

Spica Baddock blew the whistle that was around her neck. "Oi, none of that! We don't want our Seeker out of commission for our training session."

"We want Potter!" the Proudfoot twins began to chant, and the rest of the team, minus Thickey, took it up. It grew louder and louder, until Baddock got extremely frustrated and blew her whistle. The team slowly grew silent.

"That's enough! I understand your frustrations—" Thickey harrumphed at that. "—but it isn't something that can be helped. I've tried talking with the Headmistress about it yesterday, but she won't allow it. If she were to let Potter try out for Seeker, then she'd have to allow other first years to try, thus breaking the no-first-years rule. It's not that she isn't sympathetic about it, it's just that it would become too much of a headache to deal with all the backlash and—"

"But why?" one of the Proudfoot twins said. "Harry Potter was allowed when McGonagall saw him fly!"

Baddock sighed. "I don't know. I'll speak with our head of house about it, but I doubt that he'd be able to make her budge on the subject. For now, we'll just have to do what we can with who we have. Our team is pretty strong, considering. Trust me, the only real competition we'll have is from the Gryffindors. Even the Ravenclaws don't look too worrisome this year." She then beckoned them closer to stage whisper: "Corona Bradley is still the captain of their team."

The Slytherin team nodded and hummed as they shared an understanding. Albus himself was lost. Was this Corona Bradley not much of a threat to them?

Finally, after doing the Keeper tryouts and ending up with the same Keeper as last year (Cepheus Pucey), Spica blew her whistle again and announced, "That's it; we've got our team! Now hit the showers!"

They trudged off slowly as they obeyed their captain, Thickey lagging behind. Albus felt sorry for him and almost went to talk to him, but decided he needed to get back to the castle himself; it had started to rain.

.-.

Two weeks went by without much incident. Albus was mostly concerned about his homework, and making sure he kept the letters he sent home as vague as possible. There had been one letter from his dad that had actually mentioned the sorting.

_No one is telling me anything,_ his father had written, and Al could feel the exasperation in his handwriting. _Were you Sorted into Gryffindor or not? Rose isn't saying anything about it; and neither, surprisingly, is James. What's going on?_

Albus had to reply with something, but he'd still kept it ambiguous. He wrote something like: _You'll find out soon. A surprise for the Christmas Holidays._ The subject was thankfully dropped, although from what his dad had told him in his next letter, Ginny was more annoyed that he wasn't forthcoming than Harry was. Not telling anyone about his sorting was beginning to worry a few family members, too. His dad had told him, in his last owl that Grandmother Weasley was beside herself with worry.

_She thinks you're so ashamed for not being Sorted into Gryffindor that you're too afraid to tell us._

Well, she had it partially right. Fear wasn't a major factor in keeping tight-lipped, but it was at the top of the list. The more Albus had thought on it the more he knew that he'd been mostly afraid of letting his father down. Secretly, he could care less about what the rest of his family thought.

Although, that was somewhat of a lie. He did care what his mother, aunts, and uncles thought. He had a feeling that Uncle Ron would moan and groan about it ("oh bloody hell, a Slytherin in the family! Harry, I'd disown him if I were you…"), but would come around after his dad had words with him. Aunt Hermione would be okay with it, he was sure. He hoped so, anyway. With any luck, they'd be too busy fawning over Rose.

James had come up to him one time during breakfast to tell him how Mum was trying to needle information out of him about Al's sorting, but as promised he hadn't told her or Dad.

"I want to see their reactions too," he admitted after Al thanked him and then asked him why he kept his promise. "It wouldn't be as much fun telling them by owl, because then we could only imagine the looks on their faces. Doing it this way, we'll be there to see it—it'll be a laugh!"

James and Rose even got their other relatives to stay silent about it. Albus was relieved, and maybe a little shocked. He had no idea that he had such loyal family members. Well, if that was what was keeping them from telling anyway; Albus had a feeling that it was mostly because they wanted to see the shocked looks on the adults' faces too.

What was even more surprising was that Scorpius hadn't even told _his_ dad about Al's sorting.

"Just trying to be careful," he'd told Al when Al asked. "You never know; your father might actually get curious enough to ask my father, then it would be ruined. Besides," Scorpius said, holding a laugh, "I want to see Father's reaction too, when I get off the train with you by my side. He knows that I have a best friend already"—here Albus fought off a blush—"but I never told him just who it was, and so far he'd never asked."

Being sneaky like this was actually fun. Even if he had others in on the secret, it was still enjoyable. Albus had even told the Proudfoot twins what he was doing, after they'd caught wind of some of it. They liked the idea, so they promised to head others off at the past if they got a whiff of an information leak. Pretty soon, it seemed that nearly all of Slytherin House was in on it. Even their Head of House had asked Headmistress McGonagall to not say a word to the Potter family. She didn't understand the need to keep Al's sorting a secret, but promised to do so anyway. From what Al had heard, there apparently had been a vote taken from all the teachers, and McGonagall was outnumbered.

It wasn't until the last Potions class before Halloween when something disrupted Albus' routine. He had just finished up on his potion, as had Scorpius (they didn't have partners this time, but still sat beside each other during class), and was cleaning up his equipment at the sink when there was a commotion behind him.

Knight and Scorpius were on the floor, grappling, their wands a foot away, and some spilled potion had splattered on their robes in their tussle. Professor d'Eath was on the scene immediately after they had fallen, but he hadn't pulled out his wand. Instead, the professor separated them with strength alone; yanking them free from each other by the scruff of their collars.

"What is the meaning of this?" Professor d'Eath bellowed, cheeks blazing in anger. "There is no call for such nonsense in my classroom! Ten points from each of you!"

"But, Professor!" Scorpius gasped. "He started it."

"I did not," Harold Knight denied vehemently. "His whole family had—!"

"Enough!" Professor d'Eath growled. He set the two down onto their feet, and they wobbled at the sudden release, having not expected it. "I won't tolerate such behavior in my class. And I don't care who started it; fighting is forbidden. Now put your things away and go cool off your heads in your common rooms."

That seemed to have been the end of that, but the moment they were released and making their way back to their seats, Knight said something horrible to Scorpius, something about his father or something that Albus didn't quite catch, and then Scorpius made to pull his wand out. Albus didn't want his friend to get into any more trouble than he was already in, so he quickly moved to stand in front of Scorpius to shield him. Knight, meanwhile, had taken out his own wand and sent a muttered curse toward him. He'd been aiming to hit Scorpius, but it never touched his intended target.

The teacher saw it. Albus didn't know that the teacher was watching, however, and in his anger Albus punched Knight. The curse Knight had sent his way did nothing but rustle his robes a bit. Scorpius had leaped out of the way, fearing he'd get cursed too.

"Detention, Mr Potter!" Professor d'Eath shouted. "And you as well, Mr Knight. I honestly don't know what is going on through your little heads, but let's hope that a night in the Forbidden Forest helping Hagrid will sort you two out!"

.-.

Albus was shocked to be actually receiving detention from his own Head of House, but he had to admit that it was fair; he had punched Knight on the nose after all. Still, however much Knight deserved it, he realized after he'd cooled down some that it had been a mistake. Not only were his parents going to be told about it (thankfully by McGonagall and not the head of Slytherin House, so his secret was safe), and that it was his first detention of the year, but he had to put up with Hagrid, the spooky forest, and Knight during it.

And he'd acted like a flaming Gryffindor, again!

Harold Knight, unfortunately, wasn't letting him forget it either.

"And they all thought I was hotheaded," Knight was saying, sounding more like he was boasting than stating a fact. His nose, which had been bleeding a little when Al hit him, had been fixed by the nurse before they left for Hagrid's hut. The only good thing that happened was that it wasn't Filch that led them, but the Head boy (who was a Hufflepuff). Filch, apparently, hadn't the energy anymore to be up so late at night.

"You can shut up now," Al said through the side of his mouth. "Before I decide to give you a black eye."

"See, there you go again. I never met such a brash Slytherin before. Are you sure you were Sorted into the right house?"

"Shut up," Al said, his face burning. He hated being reminded about the fact that he wasn't a Gryffindor like his parents. Although he had a couple things about him that might be considered Gryffindor-ish, he still felt he didn't belong in that house. He refused to feel guilty about urging the Sorting Hat to not put him there. He was an ambitious, cunning, creative, and resourceful lad, and he was damn proud of it!

When they reached the hut and Hagrid came out with Fang at his heels and a crossbow in his hands, Knight fell silent. Albus's stomach dropped to the vicinity of his shoes. Just what were they going to be doing in the Forest that caused Hagrid to arm himself?

"There you lot are," Hagrid said. "I bin waitin' fer ya. Right, well, let's get cracking then. Thanks, Edward."

"You're welcome, Hagrid," said the Head boy. "Do you want me to stick around?"

"Nah, it's fine. I'll see that they get back all right."

Albus couldn't suppress his shiver. It was a cold and cloudy night, and he could hardly make out the entrance into the Forbidden Forest. He'd heard some bad things had happened in there, and he really didn't want to find out if what his relatives had said were true.

"Now then," Hagrid said, lifting his lantern up to see them better, his crossbow pointed toward the ground. "I want you two ter follow me. Stick close and don't do anythin' foolish. The forest is a bit more dangerous at night."

"Do we really need to go in there, Hagrid?" Albus asked, shivering a little. It was from both the cold and nerves.

"Scared?" Knight whispered beside him. Albus shot him a glare, which he ignored.

"Come on," Hagrid said, as if he hadn't heard anything. Albus wasn't sure if he even had; he was getting on in age a bit. "Follow me. You'll be helping me gather bits o' ingredients fer Professor d'Eath. He'll be needing 'em fer his sixth and seventh year classes."

Albus hurried along behind Hagrid, hoping that if anything did pop out of the trees he'd be well-protected by a Hagrid-sized shield. Knight, showing that he was indeed a Gryffindor, walked alongside Hagrid, but not real close. How could he not be scared of entering a place like this? The path they followed was narrow, and winding, and seemed to disappear into the trees. It was too silent for Albus's liking, and too dark. He wished the clouds would part so that they'd have at least a little moonlight. Not that he was afraid of the dark; he just didn't like the thought of what could be out there in the forest that he couldn't see.

"I wish I were more knowledgeable about spells," he muttered to himself. "I wish I knew everything about this forest… I wish Scorpius was with me right now instead of this reckless, moronic Gryffindor… I wish I hadn't got detention… I wish… I wish Dad were here…"

"There we are then," Hagrid said, his booming voice startling Albus so much he nearly jumped out of his skin. Hagrid steadied him with a large hand and then guided him more forward to where he was shining his light. "Knotgrass, lovage, and nettles. Yer gonna need these bags 'ere," he said, producing a few medium-sized sacks from his pockets, "and these labels to put on them so that we know which are which. Right, then, get ter work—I'll be over there, checkin' the fluxweed to see if it's growing well."

Other than being a shivering, anxious wreck, Albus quickly became bored of the job. The knotgrass liked to tangle itself around his ankles and also his wrists when he bent down to pick some. The nettles would hurt if he picked them the wrong way. And the lovage… well, nothing really happened when picking them, which was why he was able to gather more of that particular plant than the others.

Knight moaned and complained more than Al did. Al suffered through his detention in silence, not wanting to give the Gryffindor any ammo against him. He wished Knight would shut up, though; it was really irritating.

A half hour later, when Albus declared himself done, mainly because he was tired and sore and not because he was annoyed with Knight, Al realized that he hadn't seen Hagrid since they'd started. In fact, the entire forest seemed almost… dead.

A sound in the distance made Al jump. He nervously searched the area to locate the source, but couldn't see anything. Knight didn't seem as if he heard anything. Maybe he was just too on edge because it was dark and unfamiliar. But then another much louder noise startled Albus so much that he moved closer to Knight.

"What's the matter with you?" Knight said, almost laughing. "You didn't piss yourself, did you?"

"Didn't you hear that?" Al said, shivering.

"Hear what?" Knight said, amused. "You Slytherins sure are a jumpy lot."

"You didn't hear that roar?" Al said incredulous. "You must have heard it!"

"It's your imagination," said Knight. "C'mon, let's get this last bag of knotgrass filled before Hagrid returns."

"That's just it," Al said. "Where is Hagrid? He's been gone an awful long time. What if… what if that thing I heard got him?"

Knight laughed. "What, Hagrid? He's half-giant! Not much hurts him, which I'm sure you already know. Whatever it is I'm sure Hagrid's got it under control."

Yes, thought Albus, but he recalled the stories he'd been told when he was younger; how some stunner spells had just bounced off Hagrid, and how certain monsters that were dangerous to a normal person weren't much of a threat to the half-giant. Still, he was sure there were things in the Forbidden Forest that could do Hagrid some harm. Werewolves, for one.

"Yeah… maybe you're right."

"Of course I am," Knight said. Albus rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, you're not conceited at all."

"I—look out!" Knight yelled before pushing Albus hard. Albus went flying and landed hard on the ground just as something large, with four legs and a long tail went soaring over him.

Albus became petrified with fear when the thing landed on all fours. The head turned and it glared at Al. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Harold Knight take out his wand and point it at the creature.

If it hadn't been for the pictures in the books that his Aunt Hermione had lent him, Albus would have no clue was to what the monster was. As it happened, he knew just what it was: a manticore.

For the life of him, he couldn't remember how to beat it. His mind had locked up and his body was frozen with fear.

"Expelliarmus!" Knight shouted. The spell bounced off its tough hide, but it did stun it for a few moments. The stunned look on the manticore must have given Knight an idea, because he tried the stunner spell next. That didn't do much but annoy the beast. Knight didn't have enough knowledge or power to properly execute whatever he threw at it, and was forced to dodge. Thankfully, Knight was fast and agile enough to get out of the way.

Then the manticore turned its attention back to Al. As it advanced, Albus scooted quickly backwards on his elbows and feet, and then, because it started to pick up speed, Al scrambled to his feet and ran for it. He ran as hard and fast as he could, faster than he'd ever done. He rounded a tree just as it threw its tail spikes and they embedded themselves into the tree.

Albus tripped on a root and he went down. Bugger, he couldn't see well. The tears in his eyes had clouded his vision. The manticore was going to pounce on him any minute now and devour him, and all because he'd gone and lost his temper when he should have just ignored Knight's taunts….

"Incarcerous!" bellowed someone nearby, and the manticore went down as its four legs were tied up with rope. It crashed right near Al, shaking the ground. It smacked its head on a nearby boulder that was half covered with moss and was knocked out. Relief spread through Al first, and then the realization that he could have died thundered through him and he started to shake and cry even harder.

"Al! Al, are you all 'ight?" Hagrid said. He gathered Al up into his arms and Albus curled into Hagrid as if he were forcing himself not to vomit.

"Oh, Hagrid—" Al choked. He couldn't stop crying. He felt like such a baby, but he couldn't help it.

"Come on, let's get you back ter the school," Hagrid said, and Al noted that Hagrid's voice was shaking.

"Will he be all right?" Knight asked. He sounded out of breath.

"He will be, thanks to you, Harold," Hagrid said. "Good thing you thought to shoot red sparks into the air to alert me. Blimey…"

"What exactly was that thing?" Knight asked as they made their way out of the Forest.

"A manticore," Hagrid said. "But it wasn't a fully grown one."

"That was a manticore?" Knight gasped. "But what's it doing in here? I thought there were none in this forest."

Hagrid said slowly, "Er, well—"

"Hagrid, you didn't!" Knight said.

Albus was also shocked. How could the Headmistress let Hagrid get away with owning something as dangerous as a manticore? It was ludicrous! Al was no longer scared. He was furious.

"He got out of his cage," Hagrid admitted softly. "That's why I was gone fer so long… I was lookin' fer him."

"Maybe you should have had him on a leash, Hagrid," Knight said.

Or maybe, thought Al, he should have never owned it in the first place.

.-.

"Al!" Scorpius gasped as he ran into the hospital wing. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Al said. "Mostly just scrapes and bruises that the nurse had fixed up in the blink of an eye."

Scorpius set down a basket of flowers, some grapes, a get well soon card, and some sweets. Al's mouth nearly watered at the sight of all that chocolate. Scorpius noticed where Al's gaze was and picked up one of the Chocolate Frogs. Shyly, he handed it to Al.

"Thanks, mate," Al said softly. Their fingers brushed when Scorpius placed it into his hand, and although it wasn't significant to Al at the moment, Scorpius took his hand away quickly, his cheeks bursting with colour. It was an odd reaction, Al thought, but his thought process was interrupted by the sound of his name.

"Al!" cried Rose as she entered the infirmary. "Oh, thank goodness you're all right. I heard Knight talking to his friend Jack Turner about what happened. Please tell me he was exaggerating. It wasn't really a-a—"

"Yeah," said Al. "A manticore."

"And it belonged to Hagrid?" she said, skeptically. "No way!"

Al nodded. "Yeah, it's his. I don't understand how McGonagall could allow him to keep such a thing, though."

"If it were me, I'd tell Father about it," Scorpius said. "That oaf has no logically sane reason to keep such a monster on school grounds. Even if it was kept in the Forbidden Forest, it was still stupid to have it in the first place where a student could get hurt."

"I'm sure Hagrid meant no harm," Rose said.

"Oh yeah," Al said, rolling his eyes. "Hagrid hadn't, but surely the manticore had. Creatures like that should never be kept as pets; it's insane."

"Maybe I will tell Father about it," Scorpius said. "Then he could get Hagrid to pay for his inanity. That might finally teach the big oaf a lesson."

"I don't think my dad would like that, though," Al said. "Although I do think the manticore should be taken from him and put with its own kind."

Rose leaned in and said softly behind her hand, "I heard Hagrid once tried to keep a dragon as a pet. It got so huge and hard to take care of that Uncle Charlie had to take it away." She leaned back and said in a more normal voice: "It's a good thing Charlie's a dragon keeper. Who knows what would have happened then?"

"A dragon as a pet sounds good when you fantasize about it," said Al, "but actually trying to tame one is crazy."

Scorpius leaned closer to Al, putting his elbows on the edge of the bed. "Al, my father will probably learn about the manticore even if I don't tell him. It's possible that our fathers might end up in a bit of a dispute over it."

"Maybe," Al said. "Although I don't know if I'd side with my dad on this."

Rose's eyes grew. "You're not seriously going to agree to fire Hagrid!"

"I never said I would agree to that," Al said. "Just that Hagrid was in the wrong in keeping the manticore, and that he should pay some kind of penalty."

It was unfortunate that Al had said that aloud, and in a semi-public setting, because the one person that they were hoping wouldn't be around to hear it had actually just walked in and heard them. The sound of a heavy basket hitting the floor startled them and they looked up to see a sobbing Hagrid. Al cringed in embarrassment and mortification, as did Rose, but Scorpius had a glint of something like triumph in his eyes even though he was blushing slightly too from behind overheard. The basket Hagrid had dropped had been full of flowers, candies, and other assorted get well items.

"I'm—I'm sorry to 'ear you feel that way, Al," Hagrid sniffled. "I won't bother yeh anymore and—I—" Hagrid could get anything more out, and he quickly left the hospital wing, howling the whole way.

"Hagrid!" Rose called out, but Hagrid didn't hear her. "Oh, this is not good. We shouldn't have been talking about this here; we should've waited until we were somewhere more private."

Al agreed. There was definitely going to be hell for him to pay later.

"I'm going to go talk to him," Rose said after a moment of uneasy silence. "I'll make him understand that we don't hate him."

Scorpius was about to open his mouth to make a retort, but Al smacked him on the arm and glared at him. Scorpius pouted.

"Good idea, Rose," Al said. "And tell him that I'm sorry for what I said… er, I'll apologize to him in person later, but still let him know that I'm sorry."

Rose nodded in agreement and quickly left.

Albus tried his best not to feel too horrible about what just happened. He had spoken the truth, even though it was rather hurtful. Hagrid really didn't need to keep such a dangerous creature about, and he had almost died because of it.

"Don't fret too much about it, Al," Scorpius said, patting his hand. "It's not like you knew that he would walk in while you were voicing your opinion. And anyway, you have good reason to feel that way, seeing how it nearly killed you; I mean it was really irresponsible of him to have that thing here on school grounds. He's supposed to be a teacher. He should know better."

He knew Scorpius was right, but he still felt horrible.

.-.

The next morning, Albus had a slight panic attack. He heard the nurse telling a very familiar sounding person to go back home and "to let Al rest; he's had a very trying day yesterday."

"But I must see him," Harry said. Quickly, Albus looked around the bed, thankful to see that the curtains were pulled all the way around him, and noticed that his school robes and tie were hanging on the back of the chair against the wall, where his father could see them if he turned his head a certain direction. Albus forced his way out of bed, carefully moved next to the end of the curtain and whisked the green and silver clothing away behind the curtain with him. Quickly, he stuffed them under his pillow and then buried himself under his blankets again.

"I assure you, Mr Potter," the nurse said briskly. "When your son wakes up I will have him fire call you. Now, if you please—"

"You're in on it too, aren't you," Harry said, and Al could just imagine the look on his dad's face as he said it.

"I don't know what you mean, Mr Potter…"

"You're preventing me from finding out what house my son's been Sorted into. Don't deny it."

There was a pregnant pause. Then finally the nurse said, in an amused tone, "Oh, don't be absurd, sir. I have no idea what you're talking of."

Al heard his dad sighed in irritation. "Fine then, keep your secret. I really could care less." He heard his dad's footsteps come closer to the curtain and then stop almost abruptly, as if thinking. Then Harry said, "Well, I suppose I could let him sleep. I just wish I didn't have to wait until Christmas hols to know what house my own son was put into…"

After a bit more hesitation, Harry finally left via Floo. Albus let out a long sigh and rolled over. The curtain then parted, and he heard the nurse say, "You're very lucky I was here, Mr Potter. Your plan to surprise your family might have been ruined… thanks to Hagrid." She'd said the last three words softly, as if more to herself than anything. But he couldn't help agree with her.

.-.

Eventually, Al fire called his parents the next day, as promised; so he got to use the infirmary's hearth and the nurse's supply of Floo Powder. The conversation was a little stilted, and somewhat awkward in the beginning.

"You know that Hagrid would never purposely try to hurt you," his dad said. His mum wasn't by the fireplace yet, but he could hear her tinkering about in the kitchen, pots and pans banging away harder than necessary. It made him wonder just who she was angrier with.

"I know, Dad," Al said. His knees were starting to ache, having to kneel on the floor like this. "I'm still not happy about it."

"Draco Malfoy had brought it up with the governors this morning, to see what sort of damage he could do to Hagrid no doubt. Well, I put a stop to it immediately. He has no real power over what the governors could do about it, seeing how it wasn't _his_ son."

"But, Dad, surely something must be done? I mean a manticore, for Chri—er, crying out loud—" he back-pedaled quickly when his dad gave him a warning look. "I don't want Hagrid fired, of course, but surely he should get some sort of reprove or something. I could have _died_!"

"Yes, I know." His dad sighed sadly, shaking his head. "That's what makes this such a sad affair. A manticore is extremely dangerous, even for Hagrid to keep. Even your Aunt Hermione thinks something should be done, so don't worry about that. Just, well, just try not to get too many more detentions for the rest of the year. I doubt you'll get the same punishment if you do get detention again, but still—"

"Dad," Al said quickly, before he lost his nerve. "You're not too angry about me getting detention, are you?"

To his surprise, and relief, his dad laughed. "No, of course not! Do you have any idea how many detentions I had when I was at Hogwarts?"

"I think I can guess," Al said with a small smile. That was one thing he didn't have to worry about anymore.

After another short pause, and another twinge of pain in his right knee, his dad finally said, "Al, look—I guess I understand the whole wanting to surprise me and your mother about what house you'd been sorted into, but do we have to wait so long? The suspense is rather killing me."

There was another loud bang in the kitchen.

"And Mum?" Al said slowly.

His dad smiled uneasily. "Er, well… yeah, her too. Your grandmother thinks she has it figured out, but she isn't saying anything. Says she'll leave it up to you when to tell us. Although, I suppose if you don't want to say anything right now, could you at least give us a hint?"

Al chuckled softly and shook his head. A part of him really wished he could just come right out and tell his father, but he was still determined to do what he'd originally planned. He wondered if that was what made him such a Slytherin in the first place. "No, Dad, I'm sorry. I'm sticking to my original plan. You'll just have to wait."

"It's Ravenclaw, isn't it?" Harry said, grinning as if he'd just figured it out. "That's why you're so… you know."

"What?" Al said, nearly laughing aloud.

"Well, you know… strategic. I'm right, aren't I?"

Al did laugh then, but only softly. "You'll just have to wait and see, Dad."

"I bet you I'm right."

"I'll take that bet," said Uncle Ron as he suddenly came into view. Al only saw his legs for a moment and then he was lying in front of the fire next to Harry. "I say that Al's a Hufflepuff, which accounts for him being too embarrassed to tell us."

Harry shook his head. "No way. My son's not a Hufflepuff."

"Oh and how do you figure that?" Uncle Ron said.

"Because Al's not into hard work," Harry smirked.

"Ah, but sometimes there are those Hufflepuffs that seem like they're not hard workers but end up being so," Ron said. He looked straight at Al as he said, "Am I right? You're more into doing work now than you were before, yeah?"

"That depends on what you'd consider hard work," Al said, grinning.

"Al, is that you?" he heard Lily shriek in the background. She then dive-bombed between Dad and Uncle Ron. Both men let out surprised 'oofs' from her sudden weight on them. "How's Hogwarts?" she babbled immediately, ignoring the groans and complains of the men beneath her. "Did you get on the Quidditch team? What's your favourite class so far?"

"Lily, get off," Harry said, grunting. "Blimey, you've gotten heavy."

"Oh thanks a lot, Dad!" Lily huffed.

"Here, sweetheart, just slide in between us," Ron said, budging over. Lily then fell right between them and slotted into place like a jigsaw. She giggled.

"For your information, Lil, first years don't get on the house team," Al said. "I'll have to wait until next year to try-out."

"Awww!" Lily said.

"And secondly, my favourite class so far this year is… well, actually I don't have just one favourite. But my least favourite class would have to be History of Magic."

"Ha! He's a chip off the old block, mate," Ron said to Harry, thumping him on the shoulder.

"Is… is Professor Binns scary?" Lily asked, looking pale. Al felt protective whenever he saw Lily scared or sad, so his brotherly instincts kicked in.

"Not too scary," said Al. "Just really, really, really, really, really—"

Lily's giggles grew and grew the longer Al continued.

"—really, really, really, really…"

"We get it, Al," Harry said.

"Really, really boring," Al finished quickly. Lily buried her face into her hands as she laughed, her ears matching her hair. He could always alleviate her fears or stress with laughter.

"Right," Uncle Ron said. "Since we're betting which house Al's been Sorted into, what should we wager?"

"A Galleon?" Harry suggested.

"Er, I was thinking more like fifteen sickles." Ron then shrugged when Harry's eyebrow rose. "That's all I have on me right now."

"The Christmas hols aren't for another two months. Surely you'll have a Galleon by then."

"Are you calling me poor, Potter?" Ron said with a teasing grin. It was an old joke they shared that no one else seemed to be able to join in on. He'd heard that Uncle Ron and his family used to be really poor and that he'd been a little touchy about it, but nowadays they were pretty well off and their past financial issues was now just something they could joke about. Like how a bad moment at the time didn't seem funny but later it was. Albus had only seen his dad get away with more of the harsher teasing than anyone else.

"No," Harry said without missing a beat. "More like a skin flint."

"Oi, there's nothing wrong with saving money!"

They poked and smacked each other on the shoulder or whatever body part was more assessable, Lily covering her head with her arms as if afraid they might accidentally whack her in their brotherly, pretend spat. By now Al's knees were really hurting and he needed to get back to his common room before Scorpius came looking for him. One of the last things he wanted them to know right now was his friendship with a Malfoy.

"I'd hate to break up this little love fest, but I have to go," he said. Lily giggled again.

"Love fest?" Ron said, mostly in mock outrage.

"Okay, I suppose there's nothing more to say right now. Just don't worry about Hagrid; he'll be fine; or as fine as he could be considering the circumstances. Maybe visit him and make sure he doesn't over-do it with drink."

"And don't get too friendly with the Slytherins," Ron added.

"Right," Al said, frowning. He wasn't looking forward to his Uncle Ron's reaction when he found out the truth.

"Write to us more often," Harry reminded him. "We've gotten more owls from James and Rose than from you."

"I'll write," Al promised.

"Write to me too!" Lily said. Albus smiled.

"I will, Lil Red."

"Try to stay out of trouble," Harry said.

"I will, Dad."

"Have loads of adventures!" Ron added enthusiastically.

"No, don't have loads," Harry said. "Just… be careful."

"What's wrong with having loads of adventures?" Ron said.

"Adventures that are safe!" Lily piped in with a giggle.

"Er, yeah," said Harry. "Something like that."

"I'll be careful, don't worry," Al said. "Well, I'll see you all during the hols, and then you'll see who wins the bet. Bye, Dad… I love you. See you, Lil."

"Bye, Al!" Lily said. "See you soon, at King's Cross!"

"Love you, Al," Harry said, smiling poignantly. "See you in two months."

Al pulled his head out of the fire before he started to cry like some Hufflepuff.

.-.

A week later, Scorpius got a very oddly shaped gift from his owl. The majority of those at the breakfast table could, of course, tell what it was by the looks of it, even if the packaging was somewhat lumpy.

"No way," Nott said. "It can't be. You're not allowed!"

Excited, and nearly tipping over other people's glasses of pumpkin juice in the process, Scorpius unwrapped his long parcel. It was, indeed, a broomstick.

"It's my birthday gift from my parents," Scorpius said, beaming. "The fastest racing broom on the market this year: the Firebolt 200!"

"I thought those weren't going to come out until the end of the year for the holidays," said Orion.

"My father has connections," Scorpius said proudly.

"There's a note," Al pointed out. Scorpius ripped it open immediately and read it to himself.

"What's it say?" Orion asked. His own owl, Circinus, had given him a letter from home at the same time Scorpius received his broom, but hadn't opened it yet. Circinus helped himself to some of the bacon on Orion's plate.

"Well, I'm not about to divulge in its entire content," Scorpius said. "But basically he says that he's going to try getting me on the team this year, even though it isn't allowed. He may even get the entire team new racing brooms if it'll help."

"Isn't that, well, cheating?" Al said.

"Hey, if your father got on the team all because he was the Chosen One, and because he was a good flyer and that the Gryffindor team was in need of a decent player, then why shouldn't I be allowed? I'm a good flyer, myself, and Slytherin is in need of a good player—"

"We are," one of the Proudfoots said, nodding. "But we're done with tryouts already, and we've been practicing our maneuvers and tactics almost every day since then."

"Yeah," said Proudfoot number two. "It's a done deal. Your father, powerful he may be, won't have the ability to pick new teammates now."

"Well then, kick Thickey off the team!" Scorpius said. "I'll take his place, once Father gets the governors' approval."

"Oi, that's not fair, Malfoy!" Thickey said, charging down one end of the table. He'd been down far enough that no one knew he was there already, but not far down enough that he couldn't hear. "I tried out for Seeker and won fair and square. You can't just get me kicked out because your daddy is a rich bastard!"

The yelling was beginning to attract quite a few onlookers from other tables.

"You've had your turn last year, Thickey," Scorpius said. "It's time you stepped down and let some newer blood in. It's all for the good of the team, after all."

"You're not a better Seeker than me, Malfoy!"

Scorpius stood so that he was now face to face with Thickey. "You best watch what you say, Thickey! My Father—"

"—will get his arse prosecuted by my father if you don't—"

"Ha! Your father wouldn't know the first thing about the inner workings of—"

"—At least MY father doesn't throw money at important officials in order to get them on his side—"

"Your father can only dream of having enough money to—"

"Your father's a bleeding Death Eater!" Thickey shouted.

The entire Great Hall went dead.

"You'll pay for that," Scorpius growled. He pulled out his wand and aimed it at Thickey.

Thickey laughed. "What're you gonna do, little first year? Tickle me to death?"

"Oi, stop this!" Albus said. He stood from the table and laid a calming hand on Scorpius's arm. "Don't get into any trouble now; your dad won't like that."

The other students weren't the only ones that they drew attention to. Their head of house, Professor d'Eath, came thundering down toward them from the teacher's table. "That's quite enough now, you two!" he bellowed. "Five points from Slytherin. Now put your wands away and finish your breakfast. Mr Malfoy, hurry up so you can put your broom away. And no one is being replaced on the team. The board of governors do not have the power to change any of the school rules. It is up to Headmistress McGonagall to decide, and I highly doubt she'll go along with your father's request. Now hop to it."

"We'll see who gets on the team in the end," Scorpius said as he, Albus, and Orion leave the Great Hall and head down into the dungeons. "I have as much right to be on it as Harry Potter did."

"Why can't you just wait until next year?" Al said. "Then we can do our tryouts together." When Scorpius was still looking upset, Al placed a warm hand on his shoulder and jostled him in a friendly manner. "Come on, mate, don't let something like this get to you. You need to have more patience. …Besides, I'll be sad that I can't be on the team the same time you are. At least by next year we know they'll need to make a few new replacements. We'll both have a shot at getting on the team then."

Their quick march to the entrance to the Slytherin common room didn't take as much time as usual. Scorpius stood there in front of the gray stone wall and glared at it as if it was what was making him angry in the first place. Behind him, Albus and Orion waited patiently for him to say the password, but he kept standing there glaring.

"Oh, for the love of… _Scalawag_," Orion said, fed up with his friend's dithering. The stone slab slid open, allowing them inside. Scorpius came out of his stupor enough to step through the hole and slowly headed toward the door that led to the boy's dormitory.

"If you ask me," Orion said to Al quietly as they followed Scorpius a couple feet away, "Mr Malfoy's involvement in this could only end in ruin. If we're patient enough, all three of us could get on the team. I don't understand why Scorpius's father can't wait like the rest of us."

Albus agreed with a nod. He didn't want anything that could make his parents, and the rest of his family, hate the Malfoy family any more than they already did. He'd been hoping to mend a few bridges with his friendship with Scorpius.

TBC


	5. Bad Luck and Good Fortune

Albus Potter and the Cunning Plan

Chapter five

Pairing(s): Albus/Scorpius (will become), other minor ones

Rating: PG-13 (will go up in later chapters)

Warnings: slight language; minor angst and some violence, about what you might find in the average HP book.

**Notes:** Possibly one more chapter after this one and then it's on to Year Two.

I'm not trying to bash Hagrid at all in this chapter; I don't mind Hagrid as a character in the books, I'm just not a huge fan, and I'm trying to show things more in a Slytherin point of view.

**Note 2, a dilemma and a question:** I'd happened to find in book 6 (after writing this chapter) that during tryouts, when Harry was captain, there were some first years who had tried out for the team, but weren't even that good at flying. When I'd first read that I thought that they weren't supposed to be there because of all the others that had showed up that weren't supposed to be… so now I'm confused. After Harry got on the team in his first year, was the rule overturned for good and anyone could tryout? Or were the first years in book 6 not supposed to be there? What do you readers think? It's too late to change things in my fic now; the plot for future chapters have been set (I'm going to go with what's on the Lexicon: that normally first years aren't allowed on the team. But it is mainly for story purposes).

Spoilers: All seven books

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and its characters belong to JK Rowling and Warner Brothers, etc. But the original characters in here are mine. Don't use them without my permission.

.-.

**Bad Luck and Good Fortune**

The very next morning, after breakfast, Al followed Scorpius out to the pitch, which was deserted for the moment. Rose had seen him leave and decided on meeting them there. Al didn't mind, because it had been a while since he'd last spoke to her. Rose stood beside him, her friend Delia Moon on her other side, having wanted to come along, as they watched Scorpius swooping and diving on his Firebolt 200. He looked quite graceful in the air.

As they observed their friend, Rose opened the conversation with, "I spoke to Hagrid the other day." They still hadn't looked at each other, their eyes staying on Scorpius.

"Oh? How's he taking the news?" Al said.

"Not too well," Rose said. "Although he's still allowed to stay on as the groundkeeper and all that, he can no longer teach. Professor Grubbly-Plank will be taking over the Care of Magical Creatures position this year."

"Did he cry a lot?" Al asked. He didn't like the thought of making an old friend of the family's cry so much; especially when he was a good friend of his dad's, but considering the issue Albus couldn't muster up much care for the old half-giant. He wondered if that made him heartless.

"He sobbed his eyes out," Rose admitted. "I told him that you were sorry for saying the things that you'd said in the hospital wing, but he just nodded sadly and blew his nose. Truthfully, I don't know what to feel about the situation. His manticore did almost kill you, and it is rather illegal to own such a dangerous creature. He's lucky he didn't get kicked off school grounds for good."

"Speaking of the manticore," Al said. "What happened to it?"

"It was taken away and put back where it belonged. Somewhere in Greece, I think. When I talked with Hagrid, he told me that he'd kept the manticore for breeding purposes."

"Breeding?" Al gasped.

"How in the world would Hagrid manage that?" Delia asked.

"I don't know," Rose said. "But it wasn't for other manticores; he was making more Blast-Ended Skrewts. He said they were for his fourth and fifth year students." Rose shrugged. "I don't know how he was managing it, since manticores are extremely dangerous."

"But the one that attacked Albus wasn't fully grown yet," Delia said.

"Yeah, I asked him about that," said Rose. "He said that it was actually the offspring of the one he was trying to breed with a fire crab, which of course got taken away as well. Apparently it was born sometime last spring, after Hagrid purchased the mother."

"Blast-Ended Skrewts? Those sound familiar," said Al.

"Your dad may have mentioned them in passing," Rose said. "Remember when he talked about taking Care of Magical Creatures?"

"Oh, right," said Al. "It was one of the times he actually dreaded going to class. Normally he'd liked being taught by Hagrid."

"Are you going to take that class for our third year?" Delia asked.

"Dunno. I guess it depends."

"On what?"

"On whether Hagrid will be allowed back to teach it."

There was a whoop and a cheer, and they turned their attentions back to Scorpius, who'd just landed a few feet away. With a smile, Scorpius jogged up to them, broomstick casually flung over one shoulder.

"Did you see that loop-de-loop, mate?"

"Oh, yes," Al said, grinning. "It was smashing. Um, look, could I have a go on it? The only other good broom I've been on at home was my dad's old one, and Uncle Ron's old Cleansweep Eleven."

"Oh, I suppose so," Scorpius said. He reluctantly handed over his Firebolt 200. "But don't scratch it."

"Now why would I do a thing like that?" Al said. Immediately, before Scorpius could change his mind, Al mounted the broom and kicked off hard from the ground.

It was the best feeling in the world, flying. It was probably one of the things he enjoyed most about being a wizard. His dad, and his brother, was good at it, and so was he. He wasn't sure about Lily; he hadn't really seen her on a broom. It made him wonder, while making figure eights through the goal hoops, if she'd get on her house's Quidditch team too. That in turn made him wonder what house his sister would end up in, and then he came back to wondering what his family would think once they realized that he was a Slytherin.

He'd been so busy flying, and thinking, that he'd missed when the others had joined Rose, Delia, and Scorpius by the stands. He didn't want to hog Scorpius's broom anyway, thinking that maybe Rose or Delia would like a try, so he ended his last loop around the pitch and touched down gently a few feet away from the group.

"That was a brilliant bit of flying, Potter!" Emmett Annesley said. "It's too bad you weren't Sorted into Ravenclaw."

Albus smiled shyly at Emmett, and then handed Scorpius his broom back. Scorpius took it, but he wasn't looking at Al; he'd been glaring at Annesley. Why, Albus hadn't a clue.

"Who cares if Malfoy gets on the team?" said Corvus Zabini, as if he were continuing a conversation Al hadn't heard. "It's not like he can't be replaced next year by Potter—ow! What was that for?"

"Must I explain why, Zabini?" Scorpius said. "Or have you been put in the wrong house?"

"Well, it's the truth," Corvus said, rubbing the back of his head. "No need to get snippy about it."

"So where's your twin?" Hydrus Nott asked. "Isn't he interested in Scorpius's broomstick too?"

"I thought you would know, seeing how you're both in the same house," Corvus said. "And I don't know really, to answer your question. I'm his twin, not his keeper."

"Talking of, isn't that what you want to tryout for next year?" Emmett said.

"Beater, actually," said Corvus. "And Cosmo wants to try for Chaser. He's pretty decent on a broom, from what I've heard."

"How about you, Weasley?" Nott asked. "Are you going to tryout for a position?" He had almost a perverted look on his face when he said this.

"I'm not much into playing Quidditch actually," Rose admitted. "Not to say I dislike the game or anything, but I'd much rather concentrate on my studies."

"I agree that one's studies must come first," Corvus said. "But it is also said that you can't have just a healthy mind but also a healthy body. As long as I get a good work out, the winning doesn't really matter that much to me—"

"How can you say that?" Scorpius gasped.

Albus agreed with Scorpius, but he wasn't sure if he was really that surprised by that statement made by a Ravenclaw. What was the point of playing Quidditch if you're not playing to win?

"Very easily, my snaky friend," Corvus replied. "Quidditch is just a sport; it is not something that will harm your career if you don't win a game here at school. Even if you decide to play professionally, I doubt they'd take your past school performances into much consideration—"

"You go on thinking that, if it'll help you go on with life," Al said.

Before much more of a row about Quidditch and careers could get started, they were suddenly invaded by a sea of red and gold.

"Oi, clear off you lot! We've booked the pitch."

"We weren't doing any harm," Al said, turning to face his brother. "Just having a go on Scorpius's new broom." He beamed when James pulled a disgusted face. "That's right, let out all your bigotry in one go, come on then."

James ruffled Al's hair, messing it up more than what the wind had done to it. Al huffed and yanked his head away.

The Gryffindors stood nearly shoulder to shoulder, but with a couple shorter ones standing in the front and James at the forefront of them all, medium in height to the rest of the team. Albus stood almost toe to toe with his brother, his Slytherin friends behind him, and around them were their Ravenclaw friends. Rose was standing somewhere just behind him in the heart of their group with a calming hand on his back.

"I'm not too worried about Malfoy," James said. "I doubt they'd even let him on the team, anyway. First years aren't allowed."

"Neither was your father," Scorpius snarled. "And yet, they allowed it."

'They' being Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore, who had decided on bending the no-first-years rule in order to have a better Gryffindor team.

"Don't even think about having a go at my dad!" James said, pointing a finger at Scorpius in warning.

"I'm afraid I must agree," Al said gently to Scorpius, placing a hand on his shoulder. "He is my dad, too."

"Right," said Scorpius, frowning and looking away.

"Oh, and in case you were wondering, baby brother, I'm not too happy with you," James said. "So don't even try buttering me up with all this brotherly love crap by taking my side."

"What? Why, what did I do?"

"You got Hagrid fired from his job, that's what," James sneered.

"And he's been crying his eyes out ever since," Gareth Jupitus said. "Every time someone talks to him about some beast or creature, he completely loses it and runs off bawling."

"I nearly DIED!" Al shouted. "What part of that do you Gryffindorks not understand?"

"Hey, watch who you're calling a dork, little snake in the grass," James said, nearly stabbing his finger into Al's eye. "It's not like you were really hurt that bad, and maybe if you hadn't run away like a coward and thought of using your wand to stop it like Knight had—"

"No spells can penetrate the hide of a manticore, you idiot. And what difference would it have made if I hadn't run? It would have come after me sooner or later, and I did give Knight time to send up some red sparks—"

"Which you didn't think to do first, I might add," James said.

"How could I have thought to do the spell if no one had taught me it in the first place?" Al roared.

"All right, stop it, you two," Rose said, pushing them apart. Al hadn't realized that he'd been getting more and more in his brother's face with each argument. "We don't want you to get a detention, do we?"

James slowly relented, but only because he couldn't come up with a retort against his cousin. Finally, he said, "Whatever. Come on, let's practice now—and everyone clear off; I don't want either houses seeing what our plan of attack is."

"Like Gryffindors could ever come up with good strategic plans," whispered Corvus. Scorpius, Nott, and Emmett laughed without caring if anyone heard them. Rose, Al, and Delia tried to hide their amusement. Although why he tried to hide it when the Gryffindors hadn't heard what Corvus said he wasn't sure. It probably had to do with politeness or something. That or he didn't want to anger his older brother any more than he was.

"C'mon, let's leave them to it then," Scorpius said. "I've got to stash my broom somewhere safe in the dormitory where no one could get at it to tamper with it."

"Are you suggesting," Al said, in as sarcastic a tone as he could, "that my brother would know an actual dark arts spell that could tamper with a state-of-the-art broom? I think you're giving him way too much credit."

They high-tailed it before James could retaliate in some way.

.-.

It was finally Halloween, Albus's favorite time of the year. He loved the decorations, the darker atmosphere, the smell of baking pumpkin, and the excuse of having to eat loads of sweets.

Of course, there was more to the feast than just sweets; there were baked potatoes, glazed hams, candied yams, pies, pumpkin cider, caramel apples, cakes, haggis (which Al didn't touch), and roasted pumpkin seeds. There were also the traditional flying bats that hung around the enchanted ceiling, the candled-filled pumpkins that fluttered about in an eerie way, and orange and black streamers. Although he wasn't into being overly scared, he liked the spookiness of it all just the same. It was a strange contradiction of himself.

Scorpius, of course, had something negative to say about the holiday.

"Too many sweets are bad for you," he'd said after Al explained his love of the holiday. "And what's so great about dressing up in silly costumes and going around scaring people silly? That doesn't sound like much fun to me."

"It is if you're the one doing the scaring," Al said. "I hear that even the Proudfoot twins are getting into it."

"Yeah, well, that's them. They'll do anything to cause mischief and mayhem. Hence, their nicknames."

"Still, you have to admit it is fun," Al said. "I mean—I understand where you're coming from, because I don't like being scared either; but it's really all in fun, yeah? Take those bats for example. They're not going to hurt us, are they? Yet there's the strange, eerie quality to them that helps make the atmosphere. And the floating jack-o-lanterns; you've got to admit that they're rather cool."

"I suppose," Scorpius said, frowning somewhat. "Well, I'll try to have some fun, for your sake, Al. But if anyone tries to scare the living daylights out of me, they'll surely hear from my fa—"

"_Scorpius_—" came a ghostly voice from behind them, and Scorpius jumped nearly a foot off his seat and shrieked. Al was only startled a little, and turned quickly around to see who had said it.

The person who'd spoke was wearing a mask, and it was a familiar mask but Albus couldn't put his finger on it. The look Scorpius had on his face, however, gave him the hint. The person had somehow gotten hold of a scowling wizard picture of Draco Malfoy, blew it up to life-sized proportions, and made his face into a mask. The voice, too, had sounded exactly like Mr Malfoy. Albus was merely gobsmacked, but poor Scorpius was patting his chest and gasping for breath. He looked like death warmed up.

The person took off the mask, laughing his arse off. "Oh, the look on your face, Malfoy!" a Proudfoot twin wheezed. "Priceless!"

"That wasn't very nice," Al said, feeling his hackles rise as he got to his feet. "You could've given him a heart attack!"

"Oh lighten up, Potter," Proudfoot said. "It's Halloween! Time for tricks and high jinks and things that go bump in the night."

Albus checked on Scorpius, who was still looking pale and upset. Al rubbed his back while glaring at the Proudfoot twin.

What was worse was that almost the entire school had seen the prank. Some were laughing, although Albus was glad to see some shaking their heads in dismay. Not everyone saw what had happened. But soon word got around as those people asked their neighbours who'd seen the whole thing. It spread around quickly, and when Albus looked over at the Gryffindor table, he could see James and his friends laughing hysterically. Al glowered and looked away.

Just then, the other twin came running out from the double doors and screeched to a halt beside them.

"Henry!" he cried.

"House!" Henricus answered in the same tone.

"Dungeons!"

"No way!" Henry said, incredulously.

"Totally!"

"Abandon ship!"

The Proudfoot twins then skedaddled from the Great Hall as if a rampaging dragon were after them, heading toward the Slytherin dungeons.

"The bloody hell was all that about?" Orion said.

"I don't know, but I don't think I like the sound of it," Al said.

They got their answer a minute later. The old caretaker, Argus Filch, came barreling into the Hall, puffing and wheezing and eyes bulging. He looked ready to pass out. He also looked as if he'd just tripped down a million flights of stairs; ones that moved and had trick steps in them, that was.

"Mr Filch?" said McGonagall, standing from her spot at the high table. "Whatever is the matter?"

Filch tried to explain, but words were failing him. He huffed and choked on his breath, and then finally his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he fell backward into a dead faint.

"Argus!" McGonagall cried in alarm, but then snapped back into her no-nonsense manner. "Neville, Wilhelmina, Hagrid, please assist Filch to the hospital wing."

"Is he dead?" Neville asked quietly, but not as quiet as he thought.

"He's still breathing," McGonagall said. "So I would assume not."

The three staff members did as asked. Even though Hagrid was not allowed to teach this year, he was still considered part of the staff because he was still the keeper of keys and grounds at Hogwarts. Besides, his strength was much needed at the moment. Although Hagrid wasn't overly fond of the old squib, he wasn't heartless either (and he would do anything to get back into McGonagall's good graces).

After watching them haul Filch's unmoving body out, Albus turned his attentions back to his friend. Scorpius was looking better now, but was still a bit shaky.

"You all right now?" Al asked. He sat down beside Scorpius again, their legs touching. He ran circled over Scorpius's back.

"Yeah, I will be," Scorpius said. "Those damn Proudfoots—I can't believe they had to nerve to do that to me."

Albus leaned in and whispered, "Why would you be frightened of seeing your father right now?"

Scorpius just looked at him, and the heaviness in that look seemed to say it all, but Al was still confused.

"You'd rather not get into it, would you?" Al said.

"I would rather not, no," Scorpius said. Then he smiled. "Thanks, Al. You're the best friend I could ever have."

Al pinked up, feeling rather pleased with himself.

.-.

The next day, Albus wanted to do nothing but study in the common room with Scorpius and not socialize with some of the others. Just that morning, Rose had tried to get them to see Hagrid with her, because she reminded Al that he'd said he would apologize to Hagrid in person for the things he'd said in the infirmary. Al didn't know if he felt ready to face Hagrid after what had happened. He was still somewhat angry with him, but he didn't want Hagrid to know that.

Whenever Albus mentioned it to Scorpius, Scorpius would shake his head and say, "Honestly, the oaf got what he deserved. He shouldn't have kept a manticore as a pet in the first place. Besides, you just helped some of the older students out by doing what you did."

"How do you figure that?" Al asked.

"They won't have to put up with Blast-Ended Skrewts."

Rose hadn't been so sure about that, because when she last spoke to Hagrid he said he'd already done the breeding.

"The manticore was female, though, wasn't it?" Al had said to her. "It had already given birth to the monster that nearly killed me."

"Yes, but the young manticore that almost killed you was a male," Rose had said. "It was mature enough to mate—Hagrid hadn't lied, though; it wasn't a fully grown manticore, but it was still mature enough to do the whole mating thing."

"So we haven't saved a bunch of students from having to learn how to take care of those horrible creatures?" Al sighed.

"I'm afraid not," Rose had said.

Scorpius wasn't too happy to hear of it either. "That settles it for me; I'm not taking Care of Magical Creatures for my third year."

"We'll have to see where we are in our studies by the end of next year," Al said. "Who knows, it might be fine if Professor Grubbly-Plank is still teaching. I doubt she'd have the students try taking care of anything as dangerous as one of those Skrewts."

"That would be fortunate for us, then."

.-.

The next couple of days, Albus had excuse after excuse for not visiting Hagrid: he had to study for Herbology; he had a Potions test to prepare for; he had to finish his Astronomy chart; he had a stomachache; Scorpius needed his help with his homework; he had a detention (which was usually a lie, but there was one time it wasn't; he'd been caught with a Weasley's Wizard Wheezes order form outside the Transfiguration class room. He thought he could get away with buying something out of it since Filch had been holed up in the hospital wing at the time), and so on and so forth.

Then, Professor d'Eath had sent for them. Well, more like he'd sent for Scorpius, but Al came with on account of Scorpius begging him to.

Their head of house was in his office, and it was colder than usual. With November had come snow and chill weather. Scorpius and Albus huddled in their winter cloaks and scarves, even when they were in certain parts of the castle. The stone walls didn't keep heat in very well, even with all the candles lit everywhere. Their dormitory wasn't so bad, especially when the stove was blazing with heat. The common room was both warm and cold, depending on where you sat.

Thankfully, when Professor d'Eath saw them shivering, he flicked his wand at his fireplace and a nice, roaring fire leapt to life. They sighed in contentment as the warmth seeped into them. Professor d'Eath wasn't looking affected by the cold at all, nor was he affect by the change in temperature.

"Thank you, Professor," Al said.

"You're welcome, Mr Potter," said Professor d'Eath. "Although why you're here is a mystery. Care to enlighten me?"

"Scorpius begged me to come with."

"I did not _beg_!" Scorpius huffed. "I simply asked you politely if you could come along. A Malfoy does not beg."

"Funny, it sounded like begging to me," Al said, and then he began to imitate Scorpius as best he could, "_Please come with me, Al! Please~! I don't want to be in his office all alone—"_

"All right, shut it already!" Scorpius said, face red. Albus laughed.

"Anyway," Professor d'Eath said impassively. "On to business. I have some good news and some bad news for you, Mr Malfoy. Which would you rather hear first?"

Scorpius straightened up more in his chair at that. "I'd like the good news first, sir."

"I think we should hear the bad news first," Al said.

"Oh, no. It's my news and I should get the chance to choose which to hear first."

"But if we hear the bad news first then we'll get the painful part over with sooner—"

"I'd much rather hear the good news first, because I want to delay the bad news for as long as possible, thanks."

"Fine," Al sighed. "But don't say I didn't warn you."

Professor d'Eath cleared his throat. "If I may, gentlemen? Mr Malfoy, the good news is that after your father and I had a few nights of negotiating with the Headmistress, it has been decided that you should be allowed to play on the Quidditch team..."

"Congratulations, Scorp!" Al said. They grinned and gave each other high fives.

"Hold up on the celebrations, boys; you hadn't heard the bad news yet."

"Oh, I don't think I'm going to like this," Scorpius groaned.

"Although you'd been given permission to tryout, it doesn't necessarily mean that you'll get on the team. Mr Thickey is very cross to learn that he might have to step down as the Slytherin Seeker—"

"Oh, how heartbreaking," Scorpius deadpanned.

"—and it is possible," Professor d'Eath continued tersely, "that you might not get that position. Thickey is going to do whatever it takes to stay on as Seeker. However, Thickey's parents will be notified about what is going on and they may try to retaliate in some way. I will be writing to your parents, Mr Malfoy, and inform them of what I have learned so that we could get this whole mess taken care of. In the meantime, you must go report to the captain and find out when she'll be conducting the new tryouts. And to make it fair, those that missed out on getting certain positions will have another chance at it. You might not actually get the Seeker spot."

"Well, it's better than nothing," Scorpius said.

"You'll do it, Scorp, I know you will," Al said.

"That's all I have to tell you at the moment," Professor d'Eath said. "You can go back to your dormitories now."

.-.

"Guys, guys!" Rose called out as she ran toward them. They were halfway to the dungeons when she had spotted them. "Did you hear about what happened to Filch?"

"Why should we care?" Scorpius said. "The squib got what he deserved."

"I don't think he deserved a week's worth of bad luck, do you?" Rose said.

Scorpius and Al exchanged an incredulous look.

"What do you mean?" Al said.

"I'd gone to the hospital wing the day after Halloween, because I was curious as to what the Proudfoot twins did to him." She followed them all the way down to the dungeons as she talked. "Get this: Houseley Proudfoot had switched Filch's lobster dinner with a Mackled Malaclaw!"

Scorpius laughed, but Al was confused. "A Mackled what?" he said.

"Mackled Malaclaw. It looks similar to a regular lobster. If it bites you, you'll have bad luck for a week!"

"Like if a black cat crosses your path?" Al said, trying not to grin.

"No, that's superstitious nonsense, Al," Rose said. "You know that. A Mackled Malaclaw is the real deal. Why do you think the Felix Felicis potion was invented in the first place?"

Al had only heard of the good luck potion in passing, and had read a blurb in an old book the year before he got his Hogwarts letter.

"So Filch will have bad luck for the rest of the week?" Which meant, by Al's calculations, that Filch had about three and a half more days of bad luck. Halloween was about four days ago.

"Unless Professor d'Eath can cook up some Felix Felicis potion before the week's done, yes."

Al did laugh then, joining Scorpius, and they held onto each other to keep from falling over.

"This is no laughing matter," Rose said, hands on hips. "What the Proudfoot twins did to him was really mean, especially since this is his last year at Hogwarts. His last year here should be a good and memorable one."

Slowly, Al stopped laughing. He placed a hand on her shoulder. "Rose, look, it's not like Filch is dead. And anyway, think about what you just said. What Filch thinks is a good year at Hogwarts would be a disaster for us students. You know, from what our parents had told us of him, that he's been hoping that Hogwarts' laws on punishment would go back to the olden days; do you really want that to happen? Next time I get detention, Filch might put me on the rack!"

"Yeah, I suppose you have a point," Rose said. "But no luck is better than bad luck, surely? His last year here should go as smooth as possible. Does he really deserve to be given more aggravation than necessary?"

"Yes," Al and Scorpius said as one.

Rose huffed. "Oh, honestly, you two!"

They make it to the entrance to the Slytherin common room. Rose had been following them, frowning all the while.

"You should go back to Ravenclaw Tower," Al said as he turned to his cousin. "You might get in trouble if you come in with us."

"Can't I come in just for a little while?" she asked. "Aren't I an entitled Ravenclaw friend?" she then fluttered her lashes.

Scorpius rolled his eyes and sighed. "Look, we'll let you know when we're having our first get-together; you might get an invitation by owl. But you shouldn't come in yet. Let the party be your first introduction to the rest of the Slytherins, let them get used to seeing you in here. Then you can come in the common room as much as you like."

"Oh, all right," Rose said. "Maybe we could converge in the Ravenclaw common room sometime before then. I'm sure the other Ravenclaw students won't mind."

They agreed and waved Rose goodbye as she left. Scorpius then turned back to the stone entrance.

"_Re'em blood_," he said, and the stone slab slide away, allowing them entry.

Orion Zabini, his Ravenclaw twin Corvus, the Proudfoot twins, Owain Thickey, and Spica Baddock, the captain for the Slytherin Quidditch team, were sitting around the crackling hearth. When Al and Scorpius entered the room, all heads turned to look at them.

"Well, if it isn't daddy's boy himself," said Thickey. "Anyone else's life you'd like to ruin, like Spica's for one? You'd just love to become the new captain too, wouldn't you?"

"Bugger off, Thicko," Albus said. "You're just worried that Scorpius will take away your position as Seeker. And you know what? You might be right."

"Don't call me that!" Thickey growled, standing up with his fists balled.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Mister Thickey thick McThickson!"

Thickey went red in the face. He took out his wand and aimed it straight at Al. "Last warning, Pothead!"

"Oi, don't even think of hexing Al," Scorpius warned. He plunged his hand into his robes and wrapped a hand around his wand, but didn't take it out yet. The movement was threatening enough. "Because you'll regret it."

"Bring it on, Firsties!" Thickey bellowed. "I doubt you've even mastered the tickling charm!"

"What the devil is going on?" their head of house said as he stormed in. "Mr Thickey, put your wand away. There will be none of that in the common room. Five points from Slytherin."

"But, sir!" Thickey said.

"You will be silent," Professor d'Eath ordered. "Save your aggression and anger for the tryouts. We'll see just how motivated you are in keeping your position on the team. Mr Zabini—"

"Yes?" Corvus and Orion answered together.

"I mean you, Corvus. What are you still doing here? Get back to your own common room; you've visited long enough."

Corvus didn't argue. He grabbed his school bag and got up to leave.

"See you tomorrow at breakfast," Orion said.

"Yeah, see you."

"Thanks for helping me with my Transfiguration assignment," Orion called out as Corvus made for the exit.

"You're welcome, bro," Corvus said over his shoulder. Once the stone door slid shut behind him, Professor d'Eath went back to addressing the rest of the students.

"I don't want to see that sort of behaviour again. You're Slytherins, not a bunch of hotheaded, moronic Gryffindors. You should know better by now, Mr Thickey. And Miss Baddock, you should have stepped in and stopped them. Actually, I'm surprised you hadn't."

"Sorry, sir," she said. "I was waiting to see what they'd do, and if it got out of hand…"

"Next time stop it before it escalates into wand brandishing."

"Yes, sir."

"Now then, onto the reason why I'm here. Mr Malfoy," d'Eath said, turning around to face Scorpius. "I wish to speak with you about your latest Potions essay."

"Yes, sir," Scorpius said.

For some odd reason that sparked a memory within Albus. "Wait, sir. I have a request to ask."

Professor d'Eath turned to face Al so quickly that it startled him. "Yes, Mr Potter?"

Albus gasped and stepped back. "Oh, er, I was wondering if you could give me permission to search the Restricted Section. You see—"

"Absolutely not," the professor said at once. "I know what you're up to, Mr Potter, and I forbid you from acquiring any information on them."

"Them?" Scorpius said, staring at Al for answers.

Albus ignored him and kept his gaze on the professor. "But, sir, I won't be searching for them. I just want to understand—"

"Don't lie to me, Potter," Professor d'Eath said. His eyes narrowed. "I can tell when someone is lying to me, so don't even try thinking up another excuse. The answer will always be no."

"Right… sorry, sir."

"Come, Mr Malfoy," d'Eath said. Scorpius slowly followed his teacher out. He looked over his shoulder at Albus before he exited the room, curiosity marring his every feature.

Albus broke eye contact. He hadn't necessarily given up on his plan; he just knew now that he had to be extra careful around the half vampire.

.-.

As Albus and Scorpius made their way down to the pitch the next evening, they had to quickly get out of the way of a zooming Peeves, who was cackling like a madman. They were confused as to why for only a second before they heard the sound of crashing, swearing, and then clanging. They raced toward the noise, too curious for their own good.

In a nearby corridor, they saw Filch on his back with his arms and legs spread out, and littering the floor around him were loads of heavy objects and a tipped over cardboard box. From what Al could see, there were hammers of all shapes and sizes, large steel-tipped boots, heavy-duty sauce pans, frying pans, teakettles, pieces of broken china, and other little steel bits and bobs. There was no movement from Filch.

"Peeves has finally gone and done it, hadn't he?" Scorpius said almost in awe. "He's gone and killed him."

"I think he's just knocked out," Al said, cautiously stepping closer to Filch. "I think I see him breathing… maybe we should tell someone."

"And get blamed for it? No way."

"We'll explain to them that we saw Peeves." Al poked the tip of his shoe into Filch's side. There was no reaction. "Seriously, we need to tell someone."

"What about the Quidditch tryouts?" Scorpius said. He waved his broomstick around in front of Al to add to his oral reminder. "I can't be late."

"Go ahead without me, I'll be there when I can. Besides, it's best we don't let him stay here. He's got bad luck now, remember? Best we make sure nothing else too horrible happens to him."

"What if," Scorpius whispered ominously. "What if touching him has given you bad luck now? Or just being around him will attract the bad luck to you? You might get hit with something that was meant for only him."

"I'll just run, get a teacher, and then clear out. I won't be long." Albus was already halfway to the staffroom.

"Okay, but please hurry! I want you to witness me beating the pants off Thickey and get the position of Seeker!"

As Albus neared the staffroom door, the two stone gargoyles that flanked it spoke before he got within a few feet from them.

"Well, well, look who it is," said one of the statues. "One of Harry Potter's sprog's."

"Hey, Sonny Jim, how'd you end up in Slytherin?" said the other one. "Did you inherit your da's parseltongue then?"

"Bet he did," the first one laughed. "Bet he can speak with forked tongue."

"Sod off, the both of you," Al snapped. He knocked on the door.

"Ohhh, that's told us! Made me feel like a right Charlie."

"Oh yes, a complete and total Richard…"

The door opened before Albus could tell the statues to shut their stone gobs. It had been Professor Longbottom who had answered.

"Oh, Al, what's wrong?" he said.

"It's Filch," Al said, pointing his finger behind him down the hall as he spoke. "Peeves had done something horrible to him and he's out cold."

"Thanks for letting me know," Longbottom said. "Mind you, between the two of us, I think the old coot had this coming for a while. It's a pity that your uncle George and his late twin hadn't thought of doing it much sooner. Unless they just never got the chance. Anyway, I'll let Hagrid and Professor Flitwick know and we'll get him to the infirmary."

"Thanks, Professor," Al said. He turned to go but Longbottom stopped him.

"Hey, Al… er, look, I don't care personally that you were Sorted into Slytherin. I know that you're not a bad person. Just, er, so you know… you've got my back. I mean if your parents raise a fuss about it when they find out. I don't think your dad will mind, but I'm a little concerned for your mum and uncle Ron. I'm sure they'll come around though, after they get used to it. Anyway, just know that you can come to me for anything, all right? My door's always open."

Al couldn't stop grinning even if he wanted to. He even got a little teary-eyed, but kept it together. "Thanks, sir… er, Neville. I really appreciate it. Thank you."

"No problem. Now then, care to explain why you went and befriended Scorpius Malfoy of all people? I'm not saying that you shouldn't be friends with him, I'm just a little shocked, and maybe concerned."

"He's not a bad bloke, really. He might be somewhat pretentious, and maybe spoiled, but he's all right."

"Well, you've definitely got your dad's heart, that's for sure. I don't know if anyone from the Weasley side of the family would ever consider becoming friends with a Malfoy. You're a good person, Albus." Neville then smiled widely. "You're more your namesake than I thought."

Al didn't know what to say to that, so he just left and let the professors get on with helping Filch. When he got to the hall where he'd found the old caretaker, he saw that he was still there and still unconscious. Not wishing to stick around in case something else bad happened, Al hoofed it to the Quidditch pitch.

It was only after he got to the pitch that he realized he could have asked Neville to sign his permission form so he could get into the Restricted Section. He'd have to remember to do it later.

The new tryouts for the Slytherin Quidditch team had already been in full swing. They must have started a bit before Scorpius had even arrived from the looks of it, because off to one side of the pitch was a crowd of onlookers and some of them seemed to have been trying to get on the team again. Al recognized some of them from last time they had tryouts, and it looked like they struck out again. Albus soon spotted the Proudfoot twins sitting on the edge of the grassy field whispering to each other behind their hands, their positions relaxed and brooms lying beside them; they must have also made the team again, which didn't surprise him. A second later, Spica Baddock blew her whistle and ordered for the Chasers in the air to land.

"Nothing new happened here," she said. "Rigel and Lepus, you two are still the Chasers, along with moi. You can join Pucey in the showers while we finally do the main reason why we're all here in the first place." Spica then glowered at those hoping to get on the team as the new Seeker. He saw Scorpius standing at the front of the group and Thickey stood way in the back.

"Time to get out the snitch!" Spica announced.

Albus decided he might as well make himself comfortable and found a good seat. It might take a while to get through all those hopefuls. Once he'd sat himself on a bit of soft grass by the bleachers, he noticed that Spica and the Proudfoot twins had newer brooms than last time he'd seen them.

He didn't even need to ask. He had a feeling he knew just who had gone through the trouble of buying the Slytherin team the newest racing brooms. Not that he blamed Mr Malfoy for it, but he really didn't need to go that far. Albus knew that Scorpius could get on the team without the help of buying his way in. At least he hoped so.

The moment Spica released the snitch, a dozen candidates rose up high on their brooms. Al then noticed that they were all on school brooms, and that Orion was standing on the other side of the pitch holding Scorpius' Firebolt 200 for him. It also looked as if someone else was holding Thickey's Comet 390. The rules for the new tryouts must be that they all had to use the same exact broom type or it wouldn't be considered fair since Scorpius would have had the advantage on his new broom.

One of the applicants suddenly nose-dived, as if they'd seen the snitch, but then barreled into the ground with a large 'woomph!' and a pained yell. The person was helped immediately.

It was later discovered that it had been a third year named Kay Rosier who was trying to pretend he'd seen the snitch and trick the others, but only ended up injuring himself. Only one other person had almost fallen for his trick, but came out of the dive before hitting the ground. The others seemed to have known it had been a trick from the beginning.

Thickey and Scorpius was still circling the air like hungry vultures. Albus watched the latter with apprehension and concern. He was also scanning the skies for the elusive snitch, which had become something of a habit whenever there was a snitch in need of catching whether he was playing or not.

It seemed like it had been an hour, but it was only almost half an hour, and no one had caught the snitch yet. Albus had spotted it about ten minutes ago hovering around the middle goal post, but he knew he couldn't say anything; the tryout had to be as fair as possible, or the Headmistress might cancel it and Thickey might stay on as Seeker.

Finally, after almost five minutes more, the snitch had been spotted by Scorpius. When Thickey saw that he'd seen it, he went racing after him. The crowd in the stands and around the pitch were on their feet; they shouted and cheered or jeered, and Albus could just hear others rooting for their favorite player over his own shouting of "Go Scorp!"…

It was over before he knew it. The snitch was caught and the victor rose high in the air, snitch over his head and grin huge and beaming on his face. Albus cheered so loud his voice cracked, and he was pretty sure he'd strained a muscle with all the jumping around and clapping he was doing.

Scorpius had won; he'd caught the snitch.

TBC

AN: I edited chapters one and two because I found a few errors. Nothing major, though.

I had already started on chapter six, so hopefully it'll be done by next week (and if not, then it should be finished the week after that).


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